


My Brother's Keeper

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cheating Sam, De-Aged Dean Winchester, F/M, Incest, M/M, Post-Stanford, Sam Raises Dean, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-07
Updated: 2008-07-07
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:30:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After helping Dean defeat the woman in white, Sam knows he can't live without his brother anymore. AU where Jessica didn't die in the pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Small Gasp of Dean

 

 

 

Home. There wasn’t much to it really. A house they rented while they finished up school and thought about the future that he wasn’t sure could exist, but still hoped for. It was larger than they needed, just the two of them, but they managed to fill the space with things that felt like comfort. Or Jessica had anyway. Sam had never known home, had never known comfort beyond the sound of his brother’s voice and Jessica’s arms. Some days when he threw himself down on the edge of the bed he looked around and wondered what it was he was pretending for. Other times, like tonight, he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought about continuing his life the way he had.

 

Two years since he’d left his brother for the final time, and yet he’d still been able to get under his skin enough that Sam had walked away from this and helped his brother hunt.Of course, he knew he’d never stood a chance when he realized it was Dean on top of him in the front room.Whatever Dean wanted from Sam he normally got.And vice versa really, his mind reminded him and he stomped on it just a bit for that betrayal.

 

Cookie in one hand, soft bed under him, Jess in the other room. This was all he wanted from life, something safe and normal where he could actually flourish without the shadow of Dean or his father’s constant disappointment at the man he’d become. A life where Sam Winchester could be happy and free and proud of the person he was. It hadn’t been without cost, but nothing worth while ever was. At least that was what they said. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had much worth while in life, but Jessica. And Dean.

 

He shrugged, trying not to think about his brother. Chasing after their Dad who obviously didn’t want to be found and spending the weekend hunting with Dean had more things rushing into his head than he wanted to admit. If it had stopped with his head he might have been alright, but as the memories worked their way to his heart, and torturously lower, he opened his eyes and stared at the white ceiling that was painted a light blue by the reflection of paint and fabric.

 

He heard the water turn off in the bathroom and closed his eyes again. Jess would be a bit longer. He could picture her in there, long blond hair dripping down her back as she began brushing it out. A towel tucked in the front covering her as she sat and began applying her favorite scented lotion that kept her skin so unbelievably soft. When she finished that, she’d dab on that special lotion she had for her face and she’d finish it off with a generous spray of matching body spray. He could almost smell this week’s favorite, something lightly herbal that was only a little sweet but complimented Jessica’s natural scent.

He toed his shoes off and begun unbuttoning his outer shirt, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in the woman he loved to forget about the life he’d left, the brother he’d left again. Only he couldn’t quite do it.

 

He was out of bed with his cell phone in hand before he realized he’d come to a decision about it. He closed the door to the front room and took a seat, trying not to think about being pinned underneath his older brother’s body where his feet now rested.

 

The phone barely rang before it was picked up. “Sammy? What’s wrong?”

 

Sam smiled even though the words came out automatically. “It’s Sam.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be getting some beauty sleep princess? Don’t you have a big date with Prince Charming in the morning?”

 

Sam shook his head and didn’t try to keep the warmth from his voice. Dean would know better anyway. “Yeah, something like that.” He looked back into the room he shared with Jess and took a deep breath.

 

Dean must have heard the hesitation and his voice grew concerned. “Something’s wrong Sam. Tell me.”

 

He shook his head trying to figure out what to say, but nothing would come. Finally he just blurted out whatever came to mind. “Nothings wrong Dean. I was just thinking-“

 

“Don’t hurt yourself college boy. They teach you to regurgitate, not think.”

 

And there were Dean’s real thoughts on ‘higher’ education and perhaps the reason he’d never gone for something himself.A part of Sam always thought Dean’s low opinion of college stemmed from an ingrained knowledge that he’d never leave his family to go, and part worried that it was simply exposure to too many schools in their younger years where that was simply the truth.Don’t speak up, don’t ask questions, just do your homework and repeat what you’re told.Not the most inspirational of educations that was to be certain.

 

“Shut up Dean.” It was said fondly though and he knew his brother could hear that in his voice. “I was just thinking, if there was anything you found in the area-“

 

The other line was silent and Sam waited, unable to finish the thought but stuck because he couldn’t take it back either.

 

“You mean a job?”

 

“I just thought … I know it’s stupid … nevermi-“

 

“Sam?’

“Yeah?”

 

“Did you just offer to help with local gigs?”

 

“Um … yeah. I did. I mean, I’ve got classes still and I can’t hunt every weekend because of Jess, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help out when you need it from time to time. Or that you can’t just come by when you’re in the area either way.”

 

He cringed even as the words came out. Dean was going to laugh in his face. Or in his ear actually since he wasn’t there, but he couldn’t help himself. Sam had wanted out of the hunt, but he’d never wanted out of his family. His father’s anger had sealed that fate, but there was never a time when he’d thought his choice to go to school would ever leave him as alone as he’d felt the last two years. Even with Jessica at his side, he still didn’t have Dean and that was a pain he’d never gotten over. The weekend had proven that. Dean was going to have a hay day with this little girly confession though and he waited for the punch line to fall.

 

The silence was drawing out to unbearable proportions when he heard Dean clear his throat on the other line. “Sure Sammy. If …” there was a deep intake of breath and Sam let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “I find anything your way I’ll let you know. How’s Jess feel about a house guest though?”

 

Sam shrugged again. “My place too. Besides, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t rather sleep here than in some crappy motel.”

 

“Well, the view was definitely nicer at your place.” Dean said with a tone that went straight south and had him sputtering a second later.

 

“Dean! You so much as look at Jessica and I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way to Kansas.”

 

“Can’t help it if I got the looks and the charm Sammy.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

There was a light laugh at the other end of the phone. “Call me in a few Sammy.”

 

To let me know you still want to talk to me, Sam knew he meant. To let me know you still want to hunt occasionally after you’ve thought about it. To let me know you’re ok with me getting to know your girl and your friends and the life you left me for. Call me in a few to let me know you want me back in your life.

 

“I will Dean, and be careful.”

 

“Take care Sammy.”

 

He hung the phone up and plugged it in to charge before getting up and walking into the bedroom. Jessica was on the bed, a hello kitty tee shirt and matching shorts on as she sat on the edge of the bed, smiling up at him.

 

“I heard you on the phone but didn’t want to interrupt.” She said, standing up and wrapping her arms under his and around his waist.She welcomed him home with a kiss and buried her head in his chest for a moment.“Did you find your Dad?”

 

Sam wrapped his arms around her, taking in her scent and letting her ease away the worries of the last few days. “We didn’t actually find him, but we know he’s OK. Just needed to work off some things and lost his cell so he couldn’t call Dean while he was hunting is all.” He said, trying to figure out how he was going to incorporate his hunting family into his normal life. He didn’t know, but he’d figure out a way. Somehow. He needed Jessica, loved Jessica, and he knew he’d be lost without her. But life without Dean, was like not breathing. Sure, you could hold your breath for a little while, but in the end it catches up and it’s breath or die. He’d had a small gasp of Dean this weekend and he knew how sweet it was again. He didn’t think he could go on without Dean in his lungs anymore.

 

[  
](http://hunters-retreat.livejournal.com/6208.html)

 

 

 


	2. What You Deserve

 “This is insane Dean.”  Sam said, panting as he leaned back against the Impala, trying to catch his breath and keeping an eye on his brother who seemed even worse than he was.

 “Yeah.”  Dean managed.  He was holding his arm close and Sam could see the darkening circle where the blood was seeping into his shirt where he held it.  “But we did it.” 

 His smile was on full blast and Sam couldn’t help himself.  He laughed.  Laughed because he was alive and Dean was alive and even though he had no breath and his body ached he was alive and Dean was there at his side and nothing else mattered really.  “Next time you turn all Ray Stantz on me I’m kicking your ass to the curb!”  He shook his head.  “… jump …”  

 “It got her attention.”

 “Yeah, and got you thrown through a window and me into a book shelf.”  He shook his head as he took a deep breath.  “There were a lot of things on that bookshelf Dean, breakable things that fell all around me.”  He held up his hand to show the cuts he’d got when he’d tried to push himself off the ground, not realizing the ground was covered in shards of broken glass and porcelain.  “Did I mention they fell on my head?”

 “Yeah, it was a little insane.”  Dean said laughing softly as he closed the distance between them, grabbing Sam’s hand to look at it.

 He hadn’t intended for Dean to touch him and he tried to pull away, but Dean wasn’t having it.  “Come on.  Let’s get back and get this cleaned up.”

 Sam shook his head.  “Motel.  Not going home looking like this for Jess to see.”  He said as he opened the door to the Impala.  They were only an hour away from home, but as much as Sam enjoyed having Dean there he wasn’t going to worry Jess needlessly.  He’d explained away their various cuts and bruises so far as sparring and brotherly pranks and a tendency to anything outdoors and dangerous, and she’d believed it.  Watching him come in with shards in his hands and Dean bleeding himself out wouldn’t fit into that scenario and he was too tired to find a lie to cover it.  Damn vengeful spirits.  They never went as easy as they should.

 Dean didn’t answer but moved to the other side of his baby and got in, driving them to the closest motel he found.  It didn’t take long, habits of youth kicking in and both had made notice of the motel on their way in even if they hadn’t planned on using it.

 

Sam waited in the car as Dean threw on a jacket to cover the blood.  When he came back, he pulled the car to the back of the lot and Sam followed him into the room without comment.  It’d been a routine ground into them from as early as Sam could remember and they didn’t fall from it now.  The car as far away from the road as it could be, their things carried in as well as any weapons they might need, and yes some were always needed, along with the always carried supply of salt and holy water.  Dean set about salting the door and windows while Sam got the first aid kit out and began running warm water in the sink.  Towels out, wash cloth wet and warmed, and tools set out on the counter, Sam went to the other room to find Dean finishing with the salt and watched him set the two flasks of holy water on the nightstand. 

 “Done.”  Dean said with a small smile as he looked up and saw Sam looking at him.

 “Ready in here too.” Sam said with a small nod.

 Dean grunted but shrugged off his jacket without comment and sat on the toilet as Sam began.  He ran water over Dean’s arm because the blood had dried on the sleeve of his shirt and it was the only way to loosen it without hurting him.  When it was wet enough, Sam peeled the sleeve away from the arm, then pulled the rest of the shirt over Dean’s head. 

 He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and tried not to notice Dean noticing.  He wouldn’t say anything about it though, he never did.  Not with this.  He could tease Sam endlessly about any number of subjects, but he never once touched on the times when it felt like they were too close to keep from touching, or when the heat resting between them should have scorched a hole in the world around them.  He’d take a deep breath and close his eyes and swallow against the lump in his own throat and pretend he didn’t feel anything, didn’t want anything, didn’t notice anything.  Pretended there wasn’t a word in his brain rolling around, rattling everything loose and tearing him apart with guilt because the want and need and desire were too close and too real and too intense to deny but too fucked up even for the Winchester boys. 

 Sam pushed it away as he always had, pushed it away this time with thoughts of Jess and how he needed to call her and tell her they were staying out tonight.  Thoughts of Dean’s wound and what he needed to do to clean the deep gash out.  Thoughts about stitches and concerns of infection.  Until thoughts about how lumpy the beds were had him through the worst of the clean up, had Dean safely healed and bandaged, without stitches required thankfully, and now he was waiting for Dean to clean the shards from his hands.

 With thoughts of lumpy beds still running through in his head, Dean carefully held his hand steady and pulled with tweezers to get even the smallest bit away.  Thoughts of what could happen in a motel with just the two of them there.  Thoughts of what could happen on a lumpy bed that would leave them both so tired they would sleep soundly no matter what they lay on.

 “Dude?  You still with me?”

 Sam opened his eyes to look at Dean, concern written across his face.  He shook his head.  “Tired man.  Need to call Jess when you’re done.”

“Now that is just how awesome I am.  You’re done little brother.”

 Sam shook his head at the reminder of their relationship, as if he could forget that Dean was his brother, then stood up.  “Thanks.  Just be a minute.”

 Dean didn’t say anything as he crashed onto one of the beds and reached for the remote.  Sam grabbed his cell, thankful that his left hand had taken the brunt of the injury.  He dialed Jess’s number and she picked up, the sound of laughter coming from someone near her.

 “Hello?”

 “Hey Jess.”

 "Sam?  Are you home already?” She asked.

 “Nah.  Dean and I had a little trouble with our hike.  We’re fine, but a little tired and beat up so we’re staying out here tonight.   Be back tomorrow night though.”

 “You sure you’re alright Sam?  I can come get you if you need.”

 “No, really hon.  It was just a long day and we’re both too tired to get behind the wheel.”

 “Alright.”  She said with a small sigh.  She didn’t like him going off with Dean, but she’d come to like him in the last few months, recognized that while Sam might have had a rough childhood that they both refused to talk about, that Dean had been what kept his rough childhood from being unbearable.  She knew that Dean would die to protect Sam and once she’d figured that out, Dean had been OK to her.  Even if she still did tease about his smurf obsession.  “If you need me though-“

 “I know Jess.  And thanks for understanding.  I don’t deserve you.”

 “I know.”  She said, her voice light and teasing as she answered.  “Love you Sam.”

 “Love you too Jess.  See you tomorrow.”

 

   
He closed the phone and headed back into the room to find Dean watching MASH reruns on tv.  He turned it off though and set the remote on the nightstand between the beds.  “Jess alright?”  He asked.  She might think Dean was alright, but Dean had developed a fondness for Jessica that was not entirely based on the cartoon characters she wore to bed at night.  She was strong and independent and completely devoted to Sam and it really seemed to be the latter that won Dean over.

 “She’s out with friends.” He said, knowing the sound of a girl’s night out when he heard the other end of it on the phone.  “And she’s expecting us home tomorrow night.”

 “Home?”  Dean’s eyebrow rose up slightly.  “Us home?”

 Sam rolled his eyes.  “You have someplace better to call home?  And don’t say the Impala.”  He said, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking across at his brother. 

 “The Impala…”  Dean said with a small smile.  He got up and sat across from Sam who was looking at his hands suddenly.  “Sam.”  When Sam didn’t look up, he grabbed his hands in his own.  “Sammy, I know what you meant.  And … thanks.”

 Sam looked up at that to find Dean’s face oddly calm.  Normally any sort of emotional scene was played out with a lot of angst and drama, but tonight it seemed to be just … speaking their minds.  He shrugged, but couldn’t help but look back down at his hands as Dean’s thumb began rubbing circles into his right palm.  “You know it took me three years to figure out why no place I lived out here ever felt like home.  When Jess moved in, I figured it out.  She made our place home for me.  In all my life, I never had a place to call home but I kept looking for it.  Turns out, for me home is all about a person, because the only place I had before this to call home … was just you.”

 Dean’s hands stopped moving and he pulled away slightly.  Sam waited for Dean to get up and walk out, or to make some crass comment to turn Sam to anger instead of this, but instead he felt Dean’s hand reach out and cup his face gently.

 “You deserved more than that, but all I could ever give you was a place to be safe and even that wasn’t always true.”

 “You did everything you could Dean and I knew that.”  He smiled slightly as he looked up at Dean.  “Eventually.”

 “I’m glad you have her Sammy.”  Dean said, his eyes going soft for a moment, before hardening again.  “You don’t deserve her, but I’m glad you have her.”

 And before he could answer that, could agree that he didn’t deserve her, that he couldn’t deserve her as long as this burnt between them, Dean’s lips were on his and he was clutching his brother to him.  Years of denial, of repressed tension and need all came through that kiss, each opening to the other, testing the other and tasting.  His hands roamed over bare flesh that he’d often touched but never allowed himself to feel before.  Dean’s hands found their way under his shirt and he moaned into his mouth at the feel of it, of Dean’s exploration and to what he was finally consenting to.

He’d never understand why that night had been the night.  He’d never learn why Dean had given into this need between them when he’d been denying it since Sam had been about to turn 15 and they’d realized there was more to their relationship than brotherly love.  But when Dean turned his mind to something it was all or nothing and this time he was entirely devoted to exploring his brother, to learning everything there was about Sam’s body, and their combined pleasure.

Dean dropped him off the next night and didn’t bother coming into the house.  Sam had asked him to, but Dean had taken one look at Jessica as she came out the door and shook his head.  “You don’t deserve her.”  He said with a smile. 

Sam shook his head.  “I don’t deserve a lot of things.  Doesn’t mean I’m going to pass them up though.”  He said, smiling slightly at the memories of the night before and their morning after.  The word still tumbled around their heads and Sam could see it on Dean’s mind as clearly as he could see the memory of their love making, but when Sam was leaning in, Dean grabbed his right hand and squeezed it lightly.  No words needed really.  Dean was his.  He was Dean’s.  Everything else in life was a bonus, but the things they needed stayed the same.  And all their lives, Sam and Dean had always lived just for Sam and Dean. 


	3. Normal

 

Sam let out a soft laugh as Jess walked past Dean, smacking the back of his head.  “If you say that again Dean Winchester I swear I’ll take the frying pan to your head.  I know how to use it!”

“Probably the only use it gets.  I’ve tasted your cooking woman.”  Dean tossed back, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his head.  Dean let out a low laugh as Jessica glared at him, walking out the room.  Dean had deserved it.  After all, he’d been around enough to know that any negative comment about Grey’s Anatomy was bound to get a smack at the least.

Dean took the abuse well.  Sitting on the floor with an elbow propped up on a pillow, he turned back and winked at Sam on the couch.  It’d been almost six months since Dean had come back into his life and he didn’t regret bringing his brother into the quiet of Stanford.  They hunted together when Dean needed help or if there was something local, and when Dean needed a place to lick his wounds for a few days, he came to visit. 

“She’s probably going for the skillet pan right now you know.  You might want to start running.”

Dean let out another low laugh that went straight to Sam’s heart and worked its way lower.  Having Dean a part of his life again was more than he’d ever hoped for.  He didn’t think Dean would be able to get past the anger and resentment of Sam’s leaving, but Dean had proven him wrong.  It wasn’t such a surprise since the one thing Dean was able to do over and over again was prove how big his heart was and how little Sam understood him.

“As long as she does it in that care bear shirt I’ll die a happy man.”  Dean teased back.  “Seriously dude, what’s with her cartoon character fetish?”  He raised an eyebrow.  “Or is it your fetish?  Cause I gotta tell ya, I don’t look near as cute in smurf blue as she does.”

Sam threw a pillow at him.  Jessica never took Dean’s words as anything but good natured teasing but Sam knew exactly the sort of things Dean was doing.  No, he didn’t have a cartoon fetish, but he was starting to have some rather interesting ideas about Dean having one and his current favorite fantasy involved Jessica, her smurf shirt and his big brother. 

Dean threw the pillow back and it didn’t take more than a minute for it to become all out war.  Pillows were thrown and then Dean threw himself onto the couch on top of Sam and began tickling him.  Sam knew it was just an excuse to touch without Jessica getting suspicious because Dean was far more ticklish and Sam was bound to win any fight that involved tickling.

“Boys!”

Jessica walked in to find Dean laying back on the couch, Sam straddling him and tickling his ribs while Dean bucked underneath him.

Sam looked up sheepishly but Dean just gave her his best grin.  She shook her head.  “Maybe I should have gotten the frying pan.”  She said, looking at the pillows scattered across the room and the magazines that had been knocked out of their stand, the newspapers thrown from the table top, along with the popcorn that began the night at Dean’s elbow. 

She walked over, kissed Dean’s cheek and looked up at Sam.  “I expect this cleaned up before I wake up.” She said, kissing him goodnight. 

“Yes Mom.”  The boys said in unison.  She shook her head, laughing fondly before closing the door of the front room and sealing herself in the bedroom before she could witness any more trouble they might get into. 

Sam watched her leave and a sigh escaped his lips as he did.  Given the moment of distraction, Dean moved quickly, flipping Sam onto his back so that their positions were reversed.  He put his arms up in the air, gloating.  “I win!”

 “Using Jess’s departure as a distraction isn’t fair.”

“Who ever said I fight fair Sammy?”

As soon as he said it Sam knew he was in for trouble because then Dean was leaning closer, his lips brushing lightly across his brother’s.  It been two weeks since he’d last seen Dean and he knew his brother had just finished a rough job.  It’d torn him up listening to him talk over the phone.  The only consolation he had was that at least Dean had called him, instead of just trying to deal with it on his own.  It had been done by then, but his need to touch Dean, to make sure his brother was really alright had been intense.  He knew they’d both just been waiting for Jessica to go to bed so they could reach out. 

Dean’s lips were a gently touch, an invitation and a question of what he could get away with while Jessica was in the next room, but it wasn’t what Sam wanted.  He reached up and pulled Dean down hard, thrusting his tongue into his brother’s parting lips, his hips grinding hard up into Dean’s. 

He swallowed his brother’s moan, his hands moving down Dean’s back to tug at the shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin as he trailed his fingers over his lower back before beginning to work them upward.  Dean broke the kiss and began licking and biting his way down Sam’s neck and then up again to the soft shell of his ear.  Sam began pulling at Dean’s shirt again, trying to get it off but he wasn’t willing to pull away long enough to manage it.                               

Dean was able to pull away though and pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the side of the couch.  Sam was struggling up to a sitting position, getting rid of his own shirt.  Dean’s hands came to help, then wrapped around Sam’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“You should have called me first Dean.”  Sam managed to stop Dean as he leaned in for another kiss.  “You shouldn’t have taken it on alone.”

Dean closed his eyes, leaning his forehead on Sam’s.  “Not used to it Sammy.”  He said quietly.  “Not used to having you to call.”

“Do this again and I will kick your ass.  Might even ask Jessica to help.”

Dean laughed, pressing his lips against Sam’s.  “You’d need her help.”

Sam smiled against his brother’s lips but any retort died as he felt Dean reaching for his belt.  He took a deep breath, his body wanting nothing more than to sink into this desire, but knowing that the woman he loved was in the room next to them asleep.  It was a fight he’d lost, some part of him unable to give either of them up.  Jessica was everything he’d ever wanted in life.  Dean was all the things he’d never wanted but needed. 

They’d denied this aspect of their relationship since Sam had been old enough to know what kissing really was.  When he first began having questions about sex it had always been Dean he’d turned to and Dean who had somehow managed to settle into his fantasies.  He’d always wondered, if Dean had given in if he’d have left for Stanford.  What tortured him more was the question that if he’d left, would he have been able to talk him into going to Stanford with him?  Dean might talk tough about the good works and all that, but Sam knew there was nothing Dean wanted more than to have his family safe.  He couldn’t do anything about Sam, but he might have been willing to follow Sam if he’d have had just a small push.

He closed his eyes as he felt Dean’s hands on his skin, his fingertips brushing over his hip bone as he began to push Sam’s jeans and boxers down in one swoop.  All thought of stopping because of Jessica died when Dean pulled away, removing Sam’s jeans before discarding the rest of his own clothing. 

He sat up on his knees, reaching for Dean, his hands roaming the hard muscular planes of his chest.  Dean twitched momentarily, his lips quirking up in a smile as his hands roamed the ticklish spot right above his hip bone.  Sam let his fingers drift there a moment longer, but Dean’s hand covered his, pulling it away.

Dean pushed Sam back so he was sitting on the couch, then moved so that one knee was on either side of his brothers.  Sam knew if he let him, Dean would take it nice and slow and easy.  There was a gentleness to his brother’s touch when they were like this that Sam knew his brother didn’t have anywhere else.  That wasn’t what Sam wanted tonight though, so he grabbed Dean’s face and pulled him in for a brutal kiss. 

Dean moaned again into his mouth as Sam’s hands traveled down his neck and across his shoulders.  He let his hands fall down Dean’s back and then up again, knowing the way Dean enjoyed the feather touch.  Then he let his fingers dig into flesh as he pushed his hips up against Dean. 

Dean’s lips dropped to Sam’s neck, then moved down his chest.  He let his head fall back onto the couch and closed his eyes as he felt Dean’s kisses moving lower and lower.  His touch teased lightly at the head of his cock and he bit his lip to keep from moaning.  Dean gave a light laugh and he knew he’d seen what Sam had been doing.  “Jerk.” He said softly as Dean laughed at him.

“Bitch.”  He returned the familiar come back and then his lips were around Sam’s painfully hard cock and he didn’t have anything else to say.  Dean worked him, sucking and licking in all the ways Sam wanted, a harder edge tonight than usual because he knew Sam wanted that as well. 

“Jacket pocket Sammy” he heard Dean say, letting his lips loose of Sam’s flesh only long enough to mumble those words.

Sam realized Dean’s jacket was right beside him on the couch arm and he reached in the pocket, finding the lube that Dean had there.  “What did you have in mind when you stopped by Dean?” 

Dean took the small bottle from Sam and began coating his fingers.  “What I always have in mind when I see you.” He admitted, then bit lightly at Sam’s hip.  He moved them off the couch and onto the floor for a better position as he began preparing his little brother. 

Sam was writhing under Dean’s ministrations before Dean finally gave up on the torment and allowed himself to sink into Sam’s waiting body.  “God Dean …” he said as Dean moved low over him, letting their skin touch as much as possible.

Sam’s hands continued moving over Dean’s back, pulling at his thighs to get him deeper and closer. 

“Fuck Sammy …” Dean’s moans weren’t soft any longer and Sam knew his brother well enough to know that he was already pushing towards climax.  Sam wasn’t far behind, between the blow job, Dean’s movements inside him, and the friction of his cock against Dean’s stomach. 

He felt Dean shift above him, felt his brother’s hand reach between them and begin stroking him in time to his thrusts.  He bit his lip to keep from screaming a minute later as he came all over Dean’s hand.  He felt the stuttered movement of Dean’s hip and pulled him roughly down into a kiss to muffle the moans of Dean’s orgasm at the same time.

They only gave themselves a few minutes to catch their breath before they began sorting through the pile of clothes and got themselves dressed again.  Jess could sleep through a train wreck, but in case she woke up the last thing he wanted to do was explain his naked activities with Dean.  As understanding as she was, that was too far even for her. 

Dean sat next to him then, sitting on the floor with their backs leaning against the couch.  He put a hand on Sam’s knee, not quite willing to give up the contact yet.  His head went back, his eyes closed.  “I need to crash.”

Sam smiled as he watched Dean.  “Yeah.”  Dean looked at him and smiled back.  “Dean,” he hesitated, not sure why he was bringing this up now.  Maybe it was because he’d just made love to his big brother while his girlfriend slept in the next room, or maybe it was just because Dean had a bad hunt and it brought out the worst in Sam, but he had to ask it now.  “If this had happened before … “he looked away into his hands.  “would you have come with me?  To Stanford?”

Confusion showed in Dean’s eyes.  “What Sammy?”

“It’s what I wanted, you know?  For you to come with me.  I tried to talk to you about it a million times, but I couldn’t find a way to say it.  If this,” he gestured between them “had been happening back then I think I would have found a way to ask.”

“Jesus Sammy … I don’t know OK?  I couldn’t leave Dad by himself.  You know how he was.  If I wasn’t there the man wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t pay attention to things like sleep and wounds.  But … it would have been tempting in the least.”  He shook his head.  “Hell Sammy.  It would have been tempting without this.  Just to be there with you …”

Neither of them said anything else.  Sam wished there was something he could do, something that would break Dean free of this obsession he had with keeping his little brother safe, but it was something so ingrained there was no way to remove it.  It was too much a part of who Dean was.  He’d always hated that quality in Dean, hated that Dean would take the blame for things; get himself into danger to protect Sam.  But that was his brother and he loved him even if he was a bit obsessive at times. 

Still, there were times he wished he could go back and give Dean another life.  A life without a little brother to carry from his nursery on his 6 month birthday, without the burden of a younger brother to care for and be responsible for.

He leaned over and pulled Dean into a deep kiss, before pulling back and resting his forehead against his.  “Thank you.”

“For what Sammy?”  He could hear the confusion in Dean’s voice and smiled.

“For everything.  For taking care of me when you shouldn’t have had to and for looking out for me now when I don’t need it.”

“Don’t need it huh?”  Dean asked with a small laugh.  “If it weren’t for me that girlfriend of yours would have you so wrapped around her finger you couldn’t see straight.”

“Dean?  She does have me wrapped like that.  You too in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Dean laughed.  “Nah Sammy, I just play along for the cartoon characters and the free room and board when I’m in town.”

“And the sex.”

“Definitely the sex.” 

 

 

He pulled himself away from Dean’s side when his older brother began to nod off a half hour later.  He helped Dean settle on the couch and then walked back to his bedroom.  Jess was sound asleep on her side and he smiled at the sight of her.  He shrugged out of his clothes and lay down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

He loved Jess.  She wouldn’t understand about Dean, no one would really, but they hadn’t been raised the way they had been.  All his life he’d been forced to rely on Dean, trust no one but Dean.  Hell there were some times growing up, especially in the summer when there had been no school that the only person he’d seen was Dean.  Dean was the one that woke him in the mornings to breakfast being made; he helped him with his homework, and went to all his open houses, dances, and other embarrassing school functions.  Dean was the one that taught Sam about life and how to care about other people, about what it meant to be a good person.  He was the one that made sure Sam had plenty to eat and clothes that fit, and made sure Sam was healthy.  He was the one that rocked Sam to sleep as a baby and who held him when nightmares got bad. 

No wonder they’d grown up to become lovers.  There was nothing normal about their upbringing and nothing normal about them now, no matter how much Sam wanted it.  Jess gave him that illusion but in his mind he knew better.  He still wished he could give that to Dean though.  Find some way to give him something normal.  He deserved more than the broken love of a little brother with too much hero worship and not enough sense in his head to stop falling in love with his big brother.

He turned onto his side, facing away from Jess and looking at the door to where he knew Dean was already sleeping.  “I wish you could have had a normal childhood Dean.”  He whispered.  “I wish you could understand what it was like for me, having all the things you made sure I had.”

He felt a tingling in the back of his head, felt nauseous as a wave of dizziness hit.  He tried to sit up and the world seemed fuzzy to him.   He took a deep breath and exhaustion hit so hard he decided against getting up.  He crawled back into bed and thought about Dean and Jess and how much he loved having them as his family.  With a smile, he let the darkness of sleep take over, knowing there would be no nightmares tonight with Dean so close by protecting him.


	4. Not Dean

 

He woke with a headache and swore lightly as he sat up, rubbing his forehead.  He’d slept in, but it was the weekend and he didn’t have anyplace to be today so that wasn’t a problem.  He doubted Dean would be up just yet either.  A smile crossed his face at the thought of Dean in the next room.  Of course, Jess was up so she might have made it her mission to wake him up as well.  Dean was too polite to give her hell about waking him up to help with things like breakfast but it was really only a matter of time.  He thought there was probably something wrong with him that he was looking forward to that moment. 

 

Jessica came into the bedroom, still in pajamas but looking like she’d already had a shower and was ready to face the world.  It didn’t really matter.  Even rumpled and disheveled she was beautiful.  She took one look at his face and shook her head.  “Another headache?” She asked.  He didn’t have time to answer before she was blowing past him and to the bathroom to bring him some pain relievers and a glass of water.  “There.  Because there is no way I’m staying home because you have a headache.”  He looked up in confusion and she sighed.  “Girl’s day out remember?”  When he still looked confused she sat beside him.  “Come on Sam, remember?  You promised to take care of Dean today so I could get out of the house for a while.”

 

“Ya, sure Jess.”  He didn’t remember anything of the sort, but when did she try to stick around just because Dean was there?  Most of the time she gave them their space. 

 

She flashed him a brilliant smile and kissed him lightly.  “Speaking of which, I think I hear him.  Be right back.”

 

Sam took a deep breath, then popped the pills and downed the water.  Getting out of bed completely, he took a quick shower and got dressed, pulling on his favorite worn jeans and tee shirt.  He pulled on a short sleeve button up but left it unbuttoned, and then threw a pair of socks on just as Jessica peeked her head in.  “Alright.  He’s awake.  Mind keeping an eye on him while I finish getting ready?”

 

“He’s not going to eat the furniture Jess.” He said with a half smile.

 

“Says you.”  She gave him a quick kiss and then pushed him out the bedroom door.

 

Sam laughed lightly as he walked into the front room.  He stopped as soon as he got there, looking around.  The first problem was that there was no Dean on the couch.  There was no sign that Dean had ever been on the couch. 

 

He began to notice other things then.  The photo of he and Dean had been replaced by one of he and his Dad, a photo he didn’t recognize at all.  He must have been about 16 in the picture and he and his Dad were both smiling at the camera, sitting atop the Impala’s hood.  He shook his head.  At 16 he and his Dad could barely talk for two minutes without getting into a fight.  He couldn’t remember ever getting a picture taken with him like that. 

 

All of Jess’s candles on the tables were gone, as well as the little trinkets she kept.  The bare floor was covered in a soft rug and stack of newspapers and old magazines was replaced by a wicker basket. 

 

And in the corner, where there had been a desk to study on, there was …

 

He took a step back at the same time the noise began.  He covered his ears, not at all understanding what it was that was making it.  Damn it!  Where was Dean and what the hell had happened?

 

Jess came out of the bedroom, make up complete but still in her pajamas.  “What did you do Samuel?” She asked, walking to the corner.

 

In place of the desk was a bassinette.  Jessica reached inside and pulled out it’s screaming occupant.  “It’s OK Dean, Mommy’s got you.”  She held him tight, one finger reaching in to touch his cheek lightly.  “I know, I know, Daddy’s kind of scary sometimes isn’t he?  It’s alright.  He’s still learning.  Don’t you worry Dean-o, he’d gonna turn out just fine.”

 

She looked up at Sam and frowned at his pale face and expression.  “Sam?  What’s wrong?”

 

“Dean?”  


“He’s fine Sam.  Look, I know you’ve been afraid to handle him too much, but you need to get used to it.  He’s your son and he’s not going away.”  She walked over and handed the baby to Sam, refusing to let him back away.  “He’s not going to break Sam, you have to trust yourself with him.  Really.  You do fine once you stop worrying about it.”

 

There was a car horn and Jess cursed before running out the room.  She was rushing past a few minutes later, kissing him on the cheek.  “I have my phone if you need to call me, but you’ll be fine Sam.  And thank you for letting me out today.  I know you’re still afraid to be along with him, but this means a lot.  3 months being cooped up is too much for me.”  She kissed the baby and then Sam, but stopped as she reached the door.  She looked back at Sam, looking dumbfounded at the bundle in his arms, then took a deep breath, steeled her reserve, and walked out to the car where her friends were waiting to take her for some well deserved pampering.

 

Sam stared at the bundle in his arms who stared right back at him.  The baby squirmed and Sam nearly dropped him at the unexpected movement.  What the hell was happening?  This couldn’t be Dean.  This burbling, giggling thing couldn’t be his brother.  But he had the same green eyes and when Sam touched his forehead with his finger there was a flash of recognition that he couldn’t suppress. 

 

He sat the baby on the padded rug and looked in the wicker basket and found exactly what he’d thought it would hold.  Toys.  He pulled some out and made sure the baby was happy there, then began looking through the house to see what else had changed.

 

 

Two hours later Sam was exhausted.  A diaper change had ended in both of them having to change clothes, a feeding that had nearly caused another one except that Sam saw the rags on the couch arm and remembered to put one over this shoulder as he burped the baby. The baby.  Never Dean.  The baby.  Never his son or Jessica’s son.  Only the baby.  Because Dean was his older brother, his lover, and this was not his Dean.

 

Only there was no trace of Dean in the house.  When he went online there was no trace of a Dean Winchester, other than the one that had been born on January 24, 2006.  There was still the mention of his mother’s death when he was 6 months old and he found the remnants of his former life, the fake id’s and hidden weapons tucked away where he was sure Jess would never find them. 

 

He took a deep breath as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the numbers, not finding Dean listed there either.  He hadn’t expected him to be on there at that point, but he was looking for someone else.  Finding it and hitting the dial button, he waited as it rang.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Dad?”

 

“Sammy?”  He wasn’t sure what to say but John continued when he hesitated.  “Sammy, what’s wrong?  Is something wrong with Jess?  Or Dean?”

 

He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do.  “Dad, I think something’s wrong.  I … I think …”

 

“Sammy?”

 

“Yeah Dad?”

 

“I’m on my way.”

 

The connection died then and Sam stared at the phone.  He was on his way?  He had no idea what to make of that.  Since when did his Dad stop what he was doing to check on Sam?  And how did he know about Jess and … the baby?

 

He was going to have a breakdown, wanted to run through the house screaming and break apart every little thing he saw different, from the bottles stacked nicely in the cabinets, to the diapers under the bathroom sink, to the pictures he didn’t remember posing for, when the baby looked up at him and giggled again. 

 

“You don’t know what’s going on do you?”  He asked as he got off the couch and lay on his stomach in front of him. 

 

The baby regarded him for a minute with serious green eyes and cocked his head to one side.  Sam laughed and that seemed to make the baby happy because then he was gurgling again and pulling at Sam’s nose.

 

A half hour later, the baby was sleeping in the bassinet and Sam was laying on the couch, thinking about nap time himself when there was a sharp knock on the door.  He took a deep breath and answered it, surprise coloring his face as he opened the door.

 

“Dad?”

 

“Sammy?”  He gave Sam a quick hug then walked into the apartment.  “Dean OK?”

 

Sam nodded.  “The baby’s fine.  Asleep actually.”

 

His Dad gave him a quick one over before stepping into the front room and taking a look at the sleeping figure there.  The smile that crept over his face was soft and warm, one that Sam wished he had seen more of in his own past.

 

When John made sure the baby was OK, the stepped out of the room and into the kitchen where Sam made coffee to keep his nerves from getting to him. 

 

“Sammy, what’s going on?  Jess warned me she was going out today, but I don’t think that’s what this is all about.”

 

Sam shook his head as he took a seat across from his father at the kitchen table.  “This might sound a little crazy, but I need you to work with me on this, alright?”

 

“Sure Sammy.”

 

The look his father gave him was so concerned that it made him ache inside.  How many times had he just wanted to know that his father cared more about him than the damn hunt? 

 

He shook his head.  “Alright.  I need to know some things, and they’re probably basic things that you think I should already know, but here goes.  First, why are you so close to Stanford today?”

 

“Today?”  His dad gave him an odd smile.  “I live in Atherton Sammy.  I moved there when you came to school.  You’re just lucky you called me today because I’m leaving on a hunt tomorrow.”

 

He closed his eyes and tried to process that.  “Alright.  So you’re still hunting.  We hunted, while I was growing up.  What about my brother?”

 

John’s concerned look turned alarmed.  “You don’t have a brother Sam.”

 

“I never had an older brother named Dean?”

 

“No.  Sam, what’s going on here?”

 

He felt sick.  He stood up, pacing through the room.  “I went to sleep last night and I had an older brother named Dean.  He was 4 years older than me.  He carried me out of the house the night Mom died.  We hunted, and he always looked after me, took care of me.  When I left for college, you told me not to come back and I didn’t, but then you went missing and Dean came for me and we started looking for you and hunting around school.  But when I woke up this morning,  Jess has a baby named Dean and … you live here?  Dad, you and I couldn’t stand to be in the same room since I was 15.  There’s no way you’d set up a home base, let alone one close to me.”

 

John stood and watched Sam.  “Sammy, it was just you and me in that fire.  I … I wanted to hunt the thing that did it, but I had to wait until you were old enough.  I made contacts and I researched but until you were old enough I didn’t do anything.  I started hunting when you were 12 and you began training then.  But we never fought like that Sammy.  I always knew you’d go to college someday, something your mom and I both wanted for you.  When you came to Stanford, I just picked up and moved.  Wasn’t like I had anything permanent anyway.  Then you met Jess and … Sammy.”  He looked scared but resolved.  “I love you Sammy.  I’d never tell you not to come back, no matter what.”

 

He reached a hand out to Sam’s shoulder and gripped it tight.  “We’ll figure this out though Sam.  Whatever it is that’s messing with your head, we’ll stop it.”

 

“You mean you believe me?  That this is all … wrong?”

 

John shook his head.  “I didn’t say that I believe that this is wrong Sammy.  The thing is, if it isn’t, then someone messed with your head to make you think it is.  And if it isn’t …”   he sighed.  “well … we’ve got to get things straightened out either way.”      

 

 

Jessica got home while John was still there and the three of them had a pleasant dinner with the baby sitting happily with ‘grandpa’.   John kept an eye on him the rest of the day but didn’t say anything more once Jess got home.  She was ignorant of the family business and Sam and John worked to keep it that way.  When John left, Sam walked him to the car and he promised to look into Sam’s memories and called Bobby to see if he knew anyone else in the area that could take care of the poltergeist he had been planning to see.  Bobby decided to take it on himself and John was free to devote himself to Sam and this new thing.

 

Jessica went to bed early, tired out from her excursion and Sam was left with the baby.  He’d managed to figure the basics out and now he sat on the couch watching a movie with the baby on his lap.  A horror movie was on, one of Dean’s favorites and he laughed lightly as the baby began clapping at the show as if it was his favorite too.  Sam took a deep breath and cuddled him a little closer, kissing his chubby cheek for the first time.  “Alright Dean, you can watch it.  But if you get nightmares and Jess kicks my ass for letting you watch it no more horror movies for you.”

 

Dean giggled and pulled his nose in response. 

 

Sam laughed and sighed happily.  “Besides, none of this is real.  You know, before this whole memory swap thing happened, you and I used to hunt monsters and they are nothing like this.  Just ask Dad.  Hollywood has got them all wrong big brother…”


	5. The One Thing

 

 Dean stared at the keys in his hand and smiled, a cocky little smile that showed he knew exactly how much trouble he could get into with these things.  His hand grasped it tightly, his lifeline to another experience.  His smile turned to fits of laughter as his chubby fingers brought the bright red key to his mouth and began chewing happily on it.

   
“Wait a few more years dude.”  Sam told Dean as he walked into the room.  “When you know what a car is, you’ll go crazy.  That key’s got nothing on your Baby.”

   
His father cleared his throat behind him as Sam dropped to the ground behind Dean, watching the 4 month old to make sure the keys didn’t get jammed into his eye or too far down his throat.  Jess kept taking the toy away from him, but Sam couldn’t help himself.  Every time she found them, he just went out and bought a new set.  If Dean couldn’t have a car then he should be allowed to play with keys.  At least until he was old enough to play with the model of the Impala Sam had spent hours looking for on eBay. 

   
“Your baby?”  John took a seat on the couch as he looked down at his son with a concerned look on his face.  Sam was getting pretty tired of that look.

   
“The Impala.” 

   
“Your car?”

   
Sam shrugged.  “It’s Dean’s car. Doesn’t matter if I’m driving it right now.  She’s Dean’s.”  He didn’t want to have this conversation again.  He didn’t want to have to talk about what he remembered and what he thought should be different.  From the look on his father’s face, he didn’t think he did either.  Sam still felt the need to lash out at John, to fight about everything in the same way he had before.  John had been so surprised the first time Sam got in his face about something that he’d walked out, calling later to apologize for whatever he’d done that had upset Sammy so badly. 

   
“OK.”  He looked away from Sam and to the baby, stealing him off the floor where he was watching them, eyes flitting from one to another.  When John reached for him, Dean squealed and Sam couldn’t help the smile. 

   
“So, I did some digging and I still haven’t been able to find anything.  Nothing I’ve come across could do this sort of thing.  Bobby hasn’t been able to find anything either.”  John was frowning and Dean reached up, getting a firm grasp and pulling John’s hair until his grandpa was looking at him. 

   
“Alright Dean.  What is it?”

   
John was smiling when he said it and that seemed to be enough for Dean because he giggled then and brought the keys back to his mouth.

   
All Sam could think was that Dean was trying to keep John happy, just like he always had.  Tears filled his eyes and he walked out into the kitchen, leaving behind John’s concerned words.

   
He couldn’t do this.  God knows he loved Jess, and having his Dad this close and … open … it was everything he’d really wanted from his Dad.  It was taking him some time to adjust to it, but he was getting better.  But there were times when he looked at the baby and he could see _his_ Dean working behind those eyes.  He loved horror movies, any toys that could be construed as cars, and had an uncanny knack for knowing when he or John needed cheered up.  He cooed at women constantly and Jess was always saying they were going to have their hands full when he got old enough to figure out his plumbing.  He just laughed when she did, but thought, you have no idea.

   
As much as he had almost everything he’d ever wanted, even a way to incorporate hunting into his desire for normal, he’d never wanted any of this without Dean.  He needed Dean, even before they’d become lovers.  He’d … he’d never been without Dean, never known a life without Dean.  Even at Stanford he’d walk into his dorm room some days and there would be the faint scent lingering in the air, like he’d missed his brother by minutes.  He’d walk into a class and see a strange marking on the chalk board and know Dean had done it to let Sam know he was watching.  He’d never seen him in those years, but he’d always known he was there.

   
It was too much now.  A month later and they were no closer to figuring out what had happened.  He leaned his hands against the sink and lowered his head, trying to think what could have caused this, but there was nothing.  No warning.  He knew that his Dad and Bobby were trying to help, but they were looking for something here, and Sam knew it wasn’t the here and now that was going to help.  Whatever had happened had happened in the other world, in his world.  He just didn’t know how to make them understand, how to fix what had changed their lives.  And god help him, he wanted to.

   
He could fix things with Dad in time, he thought.  Knowing this man had shown him who his Dad could have been and it gave him hope that he could get to that level with the Dad in his world.  Jess … they could … he was having trouble with this part.  He loved Jess, but it wasn’t her face that filled his dreams at night and it wasn’t her name he wordlessly screamed when they were making love.  He wanted Dean, needed Dean.  He would give it all up for him, if only he knew how.

   
“Son?”  Sam felt his father’s hand on his shoulder and he worked to stop the pain, to settle his breathing so he could turn and look at the man.

   
“I’m alright.”  He said after a few minutes.  “Dean?”

   
“Nap.  He was falling asleep on me so I put him down.” 

   
The hand was withdrawn and Sam heard his father take a seat at the kitchen table.  It was an invitation, where his real father would have ordered him to take a seat.  Those little distinctions ate away at him some days. 

   
“I know you’re trying to help Dad, but I don’t think you’re going to find anything.  Not here.”

   
Sam took a seat across from John and watched as the other man nodded, taking what Sam was suggesting at face value.  Another change.

   
“You mean that something happened in this other world of yours.  So tell me Sammy.  Tell me what you were hunting that might have done this.”  And tell me why I wasn’t there to stop it.  Sam heard it even if it wasn’t said.

   
That was perhaps the hardest part for John to understand.  This John had wanted to hunt Mary’s killer just as bad as his real father, only he hadn’t had a 4 year old son to rely on.  The thought that he would if he could horrified John so he refused to believe in the other world, even if he was willing to let Sam believe in it. 

   
“I only went on a few hunts with him.  We’d …” he didn’t like talking about this with John either.  Since initially telling him that he’d told Sam never to come back, he hadn’t brought up college or his separation from the family.  “I hadn’t talked to Dean in 2 years.  He’d only been back in my life for about 6 months.  We cleaned up a vengeful spirit, a woman in white, and a haunted hunting cabin.”  That’d been fun actually.  The cabin was in near isolation and it was only because of the annual deaths on that part of the lake that they’d found it at all.  They’d spent two days wrapped around each other before coming home with no blood or bruises except what they’d given each other in rough and tumble play of the fun and sometimes dirty kind.  He smiled slightly at the thought of Dean, dripping wet and walking out of the lake naked, stopping at Sammy’s side to push his mouth closed before walking into the house, humming happily.  He shook the thought from his head.  “He’d just chased down a wendigo and it was pretty bad.  Came to my place to recoup for a few days.”

   
“What was your brother like?”  John asked, his voice softer than Sam would have thought imaginable before this whole thing had started.

   
“Dean?”  His smile was back and there was no way to notch it down really.  His thoughts were of stolen kisses and skinned knees, hot skin and long night of fear with only Dean to hold the darkness at bay while they waited for Dad to make it back home.  Dean was childhood and safe and lover and home wrapped into one. 

   
“Dean was … well … trouble.”  He said with a laugh.  “He could charm anyone he set his mind to, loved diners and hunting and hustling pool.  Loved his Impala to distraction.  He was … he held us together, kept us a family when you and I were tearing each other apart.  He was …” he took a deep breath, not sure he could find the words to explain everything that Dean was.  Everything that Dean had ever been to both of them, only they’d been too stupid, too caught up in themselves to see it.

   
“He was your brother.”

 “More than that.  You were hunting so we were alone a lot.  He was mother and father and brother and just about anything you could think of.  He changed my diapers when I was little and gave me the last of the Lucky Charms just because I wanted them.  He … he didn’t have a childhood really, not once Mom died, but he made sure I had as much of one as I could.  Talked you into letting me play soccer and leaving us in one place long enough for me to get through quarters of the school year instead of leaving every month or two.  Hell, even talked you into letting me finish the last 2 years of high school in the same place.  He gave everything to you and me.  I don’t think I ever really thought about it until this happened, but he never asked for anything himself.  He was …” he gave a bitter laugh.  “He was my hero I guess.  I’ve never been alone in my life because of him.  I don’t … I don’t know if I can do this without him.”

 John’s hand reached across the table, taking Sam’s.  “Son, you’re not alone.  I’m here to help.  I don’t … I can’t comprehend the place you came from Sammy.  I can’t imagine abandoning you in that way, but if something happened, we’ll figure it out.”

   
Sam took a deep breath as he looked in John’s eyes, nodding.  So much had changed, but looking into his Dad’s eyes he knew that when this John Winchester said he’d take care of something, he would.  Just like his Dad.  “It’s just hard.  I see things in the two of you, things that I know and I can respond to.  I have this running list every time you walk in the room of all the ways you’re different from my Dad.  I love my Dad but I can’t help but wish he’d been as smart as you.”

   
John gave a small smile.  “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes Sammy.  We’ll get through this thing though, OK?  We’re family.  Me, you, Jess, Dean.  We’ll get this all straightened out somehow.”

   
And Sam realized for the first time that this must be killing John too.  Sam was looking at a Dean that would never remember the 22 years they’d spent together.  His Dad was looking at him the same way.  Sam nodded, trying to think of anything to say to that.   He was saved from responding though by the sound of the front door closing.  John was on his feet, greeting Jessica in the front and giving Sam time to clear his head before his girlfriend saw him.  He leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.  He could live with his Dad like this, could see enough of the other in him to love him as he was.  He could live with Jess and be happy as her husband and the father of her children.  He could even be Dean’s father, could love the child he was, did already in fact.

   
But how could he ever live without his big brother to look over him, to care for him, to love him and put him before everything else in the world, to make everything all better for him?  As selfish as it sounded, even in his own head, it was the one thing he really didn’t think he could do.

 


	6. Dark Liquid

 

Sam took a deep breath as he steadied himself at the front door.  He and his Dad had cleaned up from the blood bath but he still felt the weariness to his bones.  He hated vampires.  This was the first time he’d ever dealt with them, the first time he’d learned they were real, and he already knew they were one of his least favorite things to hunt.  They looked human and acted it too, unlike most of the other things they hunted.  He was just glad it was over. 

 

He shoved his key in the door and waved to his Dad who was waiting in his truck to make sure his boy got inside OK.  It brought a small smile to his lips that his father would ever do that, but he knew that about John now.  It was how he had come to think of the two versions of this father.  He called both Dad aloud, but this Dad was John in his head.  It was the only way to keep it all clear.  And he needed to.  Sometimes it was just too easy to fall into what was happening around him and he needed the reminder that he didn’t belong here.

 

He dropped his bag at the front door and made his way to the front room where Dean’s bassinette was.  Empty.  He shook his head fondly at Jess.  Dean made a single noise and he was immediately wrapped in her arms and sleeping between them.  Well, Dean had always had a way with women.  With him too, so it really wasn’t much of a surprise that he’d already learned how to make both he and Jess do whatever he wanted.  And tonight it looked like he wanted Mommy. 

 

 He closed his eyes.  This life was good.  Having Jess and his Dad, school and friends.  As much as he wanted his brother back, Sam knew that Dean was there.  He just had to wait for his brother to grow up and he knew Dean would be the same smart ass he’s always been.  It was hard, but he had that.  And in this place, Dean would have a normal childhood, a real chance at a life for himself.  It was that thought that got him through the last few months.  Three months since he’d woken up in a world not his own.  He knew John and Bobby thought something had purposely confused him, but Sam knew he was in the wrong place.  The more time he had with Jess though, the more he thought about all the things he could give Dean, the more he thought about just … giving up on who he had been.  Who needed to go back to that life? 

 

He shook his head.  He did.  Dean could be happy here, but all Sam could think about was his Dean and how much he needed his brother with him.  He needed the support and guidance, the security that Dean was to him.  He needed the love Dean offered without thought or concern about the consequences to himself.  He simply didn’t know how to live without it.  Every night before falling to sleep, he’d rock Dean, whispering softly about their adventures.  It was a way to ground himself in who he was, where he had come from.  Jess always paused on her way to bed, smiling at them without listening in to what she thought Sam was telling his baby boy.  If she knew she’d probably change the locks on him, but he needed this.  Needed this time to reaffirm who he was and who Dean was and the life he’d lost.  Dean would never be his Dean again, not like he had been, but Sam still thought he could keep their bond as strong as it had always been if he just remembered.

 

Pushing that out of his head, Sam turned his thoughts to bed.  Jess would be asleep with Dean beside her, his pillow moved to the side to make sure the boy didn’t fall off.  She didn’t understand why he’d come in and sleep with his back to Dean, didn’t know that while he loved the baby, he needed to turn his back to them both so he could fall asleep to dreams of Dean, his lover, not the small boy beside him.  He did enough things in the day that gave her pause and this had become just another one of those things.  Things like insisting on putting Dean to bed at night and not allowing other people to hold him.  He was overprotective in ways Jess didn’t understand and Sam had no way of explaining.

 

Taking a deep breath to try to relax his thoughts, he pushed the door open.  Jess wasn’t in bed, but he saw Dean as he brought his eyes to Sam.  As he always did.  He seemed to know when Sam was entering a room, no matter how quiet he was.  He gave a squeal at Sam’s entrance and Sam couldn’t help the smile that pulled the corner of his lips up.  He gave a small laugh at his own sentimentality and sat down at the edge of the bed to grab Dean up, pressing kisses into his dimply cheeks.  Something wet hit the back of his hand and Sam pulled it away from Dean, staring for a minute to understand what he was seeing.  Dark liquid ran down his skin, rolling towards his wrist.  He looked up, terrified of what he would find but knowing without doubt whose blood it was on his hand.

 

“Jess!”  His arms tightened around Dean as he looked up at the scene his father had described to him a thousand times.  Jess was lying on the ceiling, her blond hair fanned out around her as it often was with sleep.  Her white nightgown was clinging to her body where the red slash around her stomach continued to grow.  Her eyes were open in terror or pain or both and Sam saw her mouth moving though no sound escaped her. 

 

“Jess!” He yelled the second time.  Dean screamed in his arms and it pulled him out of his frozen state.  He reached one hand up to Jessica, but as he did flames erupted around her.  He pulled away, protecting Dean with his body. 

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him out and then heard his father.  “Sammy!  Get Dean out of here!” 

 

There was nothing else to do.  He knew that Jess was already dead and he had to protect Dean from what was happening.  “Jess!”  He screamed one last time, before turning away, his father fast behind him, as heat and flames chased them down the hall.

 


	7. Second Time Around

  
  
  
There was a look of betrayal in his eyes, a look that spoke of pain and confusion and loss, a look that would have set Sam back if it had happened 6 months ago. There was no control left though, no way to censor what he was doing, and no way to disconnect the two men that looked the same, but whose lives had gone completely different paths.  
  
“Don’t you tell me what I can do!” Sam said, John’s shirt held in tight fists, pinning him to the wall.   
  
“You can’t do this to Dean, you can’t abandon him to hunt this thing-”  
  
“Don’t you talk to me about abandoning him! Not you!” He could see John’s pain, could see that his old man understood who he was talking to and knew it wasn’t him, but it didn’t make it any easier to stop what was happening for Sam.  
  
“I don’t have the choice you had. It came after Mom and now Jess. Don’t tell me it’s not coming after me. I have to protect Dean and the only way to do that is to track this thing. I have to get it before it takes everything away from me.”  
  
He pushed hard against John, making a physical point that he hoped would end this argument. He let go then, backing away to get a little space between him and John. There wasn’t a lot of space in the small kitchen at John’s house, but he put the table between them, hands gripping the doorway tightly as he turned his back to John and looked in at Dean, still napping on the living room floor where he’d fallen asleep 20 minutes earlier.   
  
Part of him wanted to go move Dean but he knew he’d wake up if Sam tried so he watched the rise and fall of his stomach and focused on that, trying to calm himself from the rage that was threatening to overcome him. It wasn’t John’s fault that he’d lost his temper. 6 months of searching and there was still nothing to explain why he was living this life. 3 months of looking for Jessica’s killer and there was nothing there either. The demon that had killed his mother and Jess had disappeared and Sam had no idea where to even begin to look. But he had to. He couldn’t keep still knowing that this thing could come after Dean, not when he was helpless like this. Hell, he hadn’t been good at that even when Dean was far more capable than him. Damn if that didn’t hurt to admit, but he swore he’d admit that truth to Dean if he could just get him here to say it to. No doubt he’d take it as his due and harp on Sam about his girly need to proclaim it, but he’d take the teasing just to have his big brother back.  
  
“Sam. Listen to yourself son.” There was concern in John’s voice, but he was smart enough to stay on the other side of the room still. Definitely smarter than his dad, he thought with a wry laugh.   
  
“You told me what I did to you and Dean, what you remember of growing up. You … you hated me for that. How can you even think of doing that to your son?” There was a pause and he could feel how difficult this was for John. “Let me do this Sam, please. Let me track this thing. Let me take care of it. You just take care of your boy.”  
  
Sam took a deep breath and wished he could accept that. But he couldn’t. Part of him wanted nothing more than to mourn for the loss of Jess and the life that they could have had together, but he had already known he’d trade his soul for Dean. It made him feel guilty and that overshadowed his grief, knowing that he’d trade Jessica’s life for Dean’s in any universe. The only thing he could do now was live for Dean and try to protect him. Sam might not have understood what Dad had been doing while they were growing up, but he understood that the only way to protect Dean from the monsters of the world was to prepare him for it. He didn’t have enough pretenses in him to lie to himself and say he wanted revenge for Jess’s death. What he wanted was revenge for Dean’s loss, because twice the demon had taken his mother from him. Twice someone had been forced to choose between giving him a normal life and protecting him.   
  
“No. You can help me with his John, or you can walk away, but I will end this thing.”  
  
It would be different this time though. Dean would have Sam and the second time around; he planned on making things right, no matter what he had to do.


	8. Dad

  
  
“Sammy?”  
  
“Yeah Dean?”  
  
“Can I have that one?”  
  
“You know you aren’t allowed to have that.”  
  
“Papa let me.”  
  
“Dad did not let you.” A bit of laughter died in his throat as he looked at Dean.  
  
Dean looked up at Sam and gave his widest eyes with the ‘I’m so innocent’ face that he’d been perfecting since he’d learned tears wouldn’t work any longer to get what he wanted. “Yes he did. He said-” hands came up to his lips as if he just realized he was telling on his Papa who really did let him get away with just about anything.   
  
Sam stopped typing at the computer and looked over at Dean, his eyes hardening slightly to get the truth from the 5 year old. “Papa let you play with this type of cross?”   
  
Sam took a deep breath to keep from getting mad at the boy. “And he read you stories from his big book again?”  
  
Dean didn’t answer but the look on his face was enough to damn John. “Dean, I’m not mad at you. I need you to tell me what Dad told you.”  
  
“No, cause then you won’t let me see him anymore.”  
  
He wanted to yell at Dean and make him understand that he was just protecting him, but it wasn’t worth the pain it would cause his boy. He knew what John was doing, knew from the memories John had shared how he’d taught Sam about monsters and the ways to vanquish them through his book of tales that were really just a hodgepodge of Grimm’s fairytales with a kick of Winchester style for drama. He’d walked in to hear John telling one of them to Dean 6 months ago and had stormed off with Dean in tow before John could mount any kind of offensive against Sam’s retreat. He’d told John to back off and Sam had thought he’d gotten it through to him that he didn’t want Dean to know about hunting. Ever. John had argued, Sam had actually hit him, and stormed off while the old man lay stunned and silent on the floor.   
  
It’d taken 2 months of pleading before Sam had taken Dean back over and it had really only happened because it had been both John and Dean doing the begging. “Dean,” he moved over to the bed and sat down next to Dean who was cowering slightly. “Hey, you’re not in trouble. I know you like the pretty crosses and it’s really interesting to see what’s in all these bags that I have, but I need you to trust me big guy. I need to keep everything right where it is. That’s a very special cross and I need to keep it where it is.”   
  
Dean nodded, then smiled with a warmth that made Sam smile back. There was such blind adoration in Dean’s face when he did that. It made him think of Lover-Dean, and wonder if he’d looked up at Dean just like that when he was just a kid. The kind of hero worship that never quite dulled in time even if he had become better at hiding it. Well, some time anyway.  
  
“I won’t play with it Dad.” His eyes opened wide and looked like they might tear up a bit before he corrected himself. “I mean, Sam. I promise I won’t touch it Sam.”  
  
Sam ruffled Dean’s head slightly and stood up, needing space between himself and Dean. He hated what his father was doing to Dean, hated that he was still trying to make Sam believe in the here and now and making Dean do it as well.  
  
Before he could stand all the way up though, Dean had grabbed his wrist and pulled it until Sam looked down at him. “I’m … I’m sorry Sammy.” He said, tears in his eyes now and the trembling of his chin showing how hard he was fighting it. “I … Papa … I heard him say he was going to call the people Sam. If I didn’t,” he thought about the words, obviously pulling up an argument Sam hadn’t realized he’d heard. “… know whose son I was.”  
  
When Sam’s eyes closed he wasn’t sure if it was pain or anger that he was trying to hide from his boy. “I tried to make him happy, I did. He asked me and I told him I was your son, just like he wanted. I told you were my father and you just let me call you Sam cause I liked to. I just got tired and I forgot where I was. Please, don’t let Papa call the people and take me away. I promise I’ll be a good brother. I’ll make Papa believe I’m a good son too. I promise-”  
  
The rest of his words were drowned away by sobs and Dean’s voice was muffled by Sam’s shirt as he pulled the little boy into his chest and enveloped him. “Shhhh” he murmured comforting sounds until Dean’s body relaxed a little. “Dean it’s OK. You didn’t do anything wrong buddy. I’m not going to let anyone take you from me. Not ever.”  
  
“Really?” He looked up, face line with drying tears and a running nose and eyes that looked so lost and hopeful at the same time. It was the same eyes he got from Lover-Dean every time he tried to convince he that he wasn’t leaving ever again.   
  
“Really Dean. It’s OK. I know this is a little confusing for you, but it’s going to get better. I promise.”  
  
It took another half hour to get Dean calmed enough to even think of bed. He helped him brush his teeth and put his pajamas on, then told him stories about the adventures of two little boys who used to run and play in back country sides and empty hotel corridors. An hour after the conversation started Dean was asleep and Sam was slipping the protective cross back around his neck as he slipped out the door and into the cool night air. He didn’t go far, just out to the Impala parked in front of their motel room. He was at the end of the lot, no one nearby to hear what he was about to say.   
  
The phone only rang once before it was picked up. “Sammy?”  
  
“I warned you John.”   
  
He could hear the rustling of John sitting up straighter; hear the intake of breath that meant he knew something was seriously wrong. “Where’s Dean? Is he OK?”  
  
“You think I’d just ditch him somewhere?”  
  
“No, just … where are you Sam? You’re obviously upset. Let me come talk to you.”  
  
“So you can call the cops or social services or something like that to come down and take Dean from me? You think I’m that stupid?”  
  
“Sam you’ve lost me. I don’t know what you’re-”  
  
“He called me Dad tonight.”  
  
There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line. “You are his father Sam.”  
  
He barely managed to keep in the frustrated growl and mostly that was because if he let it out he was certain to wake Dean and everyone else with it. It was a slow building ache that had been growing for the past 3 years, something dark and haunted that passed between himself and John whenever Dean was caught in the middle. It stalked them both now, the only sign they had that it was there was when this particular issue came to light again. Something Sam thought had been buried a number of times over the past four and a half years but always seemed to blindside him.   
  
“I can’t believe you did this to him.”  
  
“No Sam. You’re doing this. He’s your son and you make him think he’s your brother. He needs you Sam, god help him he does, but you need to pull yourself out of whatever this is and realize that this is the real world Sam. Five years and-”  
  
“No. I know you don’t believe me. I’ve had time to accept that even here you can’t trust me, but I won’t let you tear Dean up over this. I won’t let you take him from me either. I’ll call and check in from time to time, but it’ll be a long time before you see Dean and I. I won’t lose him to you again.”  
  
“Sam”  
  
“I won’t. I won’t watch you put him in the middle of us this time. I won’t watch him sacrifice himself for his family again. I’ll keep in touch, but if I hear you’ve so much as asked about our location, I’ll take him so far away you’ll never find us. You might think you know how to track me pretty well, but you’re nothing on the John Winchester I grew up with. Try to separate us and I will send you to hell myself.”   
  
He hung the phone up and stared up at the night sky for a few minutes, trying to calm himself. Dean had an eerie ability to read his emotional state and the last thing he wanted was for Dean to pick up on any of this. The boy loved John with a passion that was an echo of the mindless obedience he’d shown Dad before. He didn’t want to have to answer questions about when he would get to see Papa again. Sam didn’t know the answer and he didn’t want to scare Dean.   
  
Damn him! It never seemed to matter, nothing he did was making a difference. Jess was gone and Dean was without the woman who could have been mother to him. John had put Dean into the middle and Sam was forced to walk out again, forced to watch Dean struggle between them. At least this time he was aware of Dean’s pain and trying to avoid it. He could give himself that much. If it meant they couldn’t see John for a while, so be it. If Dean ever got really upset about it they could always track the man and blindside him in the middle of a diner on a hunt. Someplace where he didn’t know the locals and couldn’t call the cops and Dean could spend a little time with his Papa without making Sam twitch at every noise. It was a plan. Not the best. Not even one he liked, but he was still trying his best to find a way back to his own world and it would have to do until he found it.   
  
Head feeling a little more cleared, Sam went back in and changed into night clothes, then slide into bed beside Dean. The boy curled up into him, seeking the warmth and reassurance on an unconscious level. Much the same as his older counter part had always done, though this guy was far less likely to deny it in the morning. He ran a hand lightly over Dean’s head, stroking his soft hair as he stared up at the ceiling.   
  
Most nights he lie awake, thinking of the big brother he’d lost and wishing to be back in the safety of him. Tonight was different and he tried to bury the thoughts even as they continued to grow in his head. He still looked for a way home, but now all he could think about was the small boy beside him and how he’d lose the chance to hold him like this again. How he’d never see Little-Dean play baseball or football, or learn to work on cars, or go out on his first date. He’d never watch him go to Prom, or get his first job, or learn to play pool. The what-if’s were overpowering and terrifying. Terrifying beyond reason because he wasn’t sure what meant more to him anymore, the things that had been left behind with his big brother or all the things little brother Dean could be.


	9. Bonfire

  
  
“Sammy!” Dean’s scream brought Sam out of the rage filled haze that had settled on him as he had come back to the motel and found someone with Dean. He took a deep breath, wondering how he’d managed to kill the thing. He remembered walking in the door and seeing the vampire in the room with Dean, but that was it. Now there was a body and detached head in front of him and a screaming Dean.  
  
He turned to look at Dean, dropping the machete in his hand. OK, that answered one question. Now for the rest. “You OK Dean?’ Sam asked as he reached for Dean, pulling him close to his chest and holding his shivering body.   
  
“You … you killed him Sam.” There was a question in the statement, a plea to make him explain that he wasn’t a monster for killing someone, make him understand why Sam had just decapitated a person in front of his 12 year old brother.  
  
“Yeah, I did Dean.” He let go of the tight grip he had, letting his hands come up to Dean’s face. “Did he hurt you Dean? Did he do anything to you?”  
  
Dean shook his head. His face was pale, had been when Sam walked into the room, but he was responding and didn’t seem to be in shock. “No. He just showed up and walked right in. I think he picked the lock because I know I locked it. He said he was waiting for you and …” his voice broke but Sam wasn’t sure if that was fear or just puberty. It’d been happening to Dean a bit lately. “He had a gun and I didn’t know what to do Sam.”  
  
“You did good Dean.” Sam said letting out a deep breath. “You’re alive and that always mean you did the right thing.”  
  
“Why was it here?” Sam looked at the body and tried to figure out what to say to Dean. “Why did you kill it Dad?”  
  
Sam groaned. Dean was really shaken up if he called him Dad. It wasn’t something that happened often, but a need for a father figure and the always misguided attempts from his father to stop what Sam was doing with Dean left his brother confused about their familial roles. The fact that they often played father and son when they showed up didn’t help but people took too much interest in the older brother raising a younger brother bit.  
  
“Sam, not Dad.” He corrected automatically, but Dean didn’t seem to hear the admonishment. He sat on the bed, reaching for Dean. When he came to sit next to Sam he was relieved that Dean couldn’t see the body from where they were.   
  
“Dean, I need to explain something to you, and I’m not sure how. I haven’t always been honest about what I’ve been doing with you. You’re going to be angry when I tell you about it, but I want you to promise to hear me out before you interrupt.” He cupped his brother’s face then with his hand. “I want you to understand that I’ve been trying to protect you from all this.”  
  
Dean nodded and Sam let go of him, turning his body so he was facing Dean completely. “Dean, that thing that I killed wasn’t human. It was a vampire and I hunt him and other creatures like him.”   
  
Dean looked like he wanted to interrupt already, but he managed to keep quiet. Sam took that as a good sign as he explained about demons and werewolves, witches and sirens and other creatures that went bump in the night. He explained that John hunted to and that Sam and Dean’s mother had been killed by a demon. That they’d been hunting it ever since. “It’s why we move around in the summer Dean, why I take you on trips almost every weekend. When I leave the room at night when you’re sleeping, it’s because I’m out there hunting.”  
  
“Is that why you made me learn to shoot?”   
  
Sam nodded.   
  
“Is it why you make me take self defense and karate and all that?”  
  
“Yeah Dean. I want to know that you can take care of yourself. Just in case.”  
  
His eyes turned liquid and darkened in obvious anger. “And what would happen to me if something did happen to you Sammy?” He demanded. “Where would I go? You shouldn’t be doing something like this alone! You need a partner or something. I could help you!”   
  
Sam’s eyes widened and a part of him wanted to cheer because it was so like his Lover Dean who he still dreamed of every night, even after 12 years. A large part of him mourned for the loss of innocence in his little boy though. “Dean, no. No hunting. You’re not old enough yet. I promise, when you’re older, if you still want it you can, but not yet.”  
  
Dean looked pissed still, but he bit his bottom lip, a sign that he was thinking about what Sam said.  
  
“What happens now then?”  
  
Sam was relieved it was over, relieved that whatever Dean felt he was still talking to him. Dean believed him without second thought, something that filled him with gratitude and love. He knew there would be fights, knew that Dean was probably digesting it all still, but he was smart and Sam knew he’d been wondering about things even if he hadn’t asked already. “Now that you know why you’re training, I think it’s time to step it up. We’ll work something out that doesn’t interfere with your school schedule.”  
  
“Or my baseball games.”  
  
Sam smiled, thinking how much he loved that fact that Dean was into sports and enjoyed playing them. He was good, which didn’t surprise Sam with his physical coordination. “Or your games. Team work is an important concept to learn for a hunt too.”  
  
Dean nodded. “Um, Sam? What do we do with that though?”  
  
Sam looked over to the body and sighed. He needed to get rid of the body. Maybe Dean was a little too young to hunt, but there was part of the job Dean had always liked, even at a young age.   
  
“Well, I’ll get him in the trunk and we’ll get rid of him. Saw some pretty desolate areas when we were driving in. I don’t think we’ll have a problem finding a place to have a bonfire.”  
  
“A bonfire?”   
  
“Yep Dean. And I’ll even let you light it up.”  
  
“I can?”  
  
“Of course. Now I want you to run down to the vending machine and get us plenty of snack and drinks for the road. We’ll head home tonight once we’re done and I don’t want to hear any complaints about not enough snacks.” He said with a smile.  
  
Dean’s smile grew. He loved the damn vending machines. Sam didn’t normally let him go crazy with the things, but it was the best way to get him out of the room while Sam removed the headless body.   
  
He handed Dean some money, knowing he’d take his time to pick the most sugar filled monstrosity that was in the machine. He waited until Dean was out the door, then grabbed the blanket off the bed and began wrapping the body up to dispose of quietly.


	10. The Tall One

  
“Sammy…”   
  
Sam sighed at the name. Somehow it felt like Dean could capitalize it, bold it, italicize it the wrong way, twist it sideways, and shove it up his eardrum with the force of a cannon. It wasn’t even that he was saying it loud, it was just the tone.   
  
“Yeah Dean?”  
  
“You said I could go.”  
  
He didn’t answer because he knew he wasn’t supposed to yet. He waited for it to get good before he jumped in. Normally.  
  
“I asked two weeks ago. I asked a week ago. Then I asked again three days and then yesterday and now today.” Dean looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s now two hours to go and you get a mysterious phone call and we have to bounce out of town? What is it that can’t wait until tomorrow?”  
  
And that was his cue really. This was where he was supposed to come up with some answer that would make it all right for Dean to drop everything.  
  
“This happens whenever I plan a date.” Dean informed him, letting Sam know that, no this was not his place yet. “For a big brother, you’re doing an amazing job of keeping me from getting laid. You know what you’re acting like.”  
  
He looked at Dean curiously because this had never happened in their arguments before. He’d never consciously taken a job to keep Dean from going on a date. Had he done it before though? Was this case that Bobby called about so urgent that it couldn’t wait until the morning? Or at least a few hours so Dean could have a little fun?  
  
“You’re acting like a Dad, trying to keep his son in line and out of trouble.”  
  
Sam’s brow furrowed and Dean stared at him like he was waiting for the roof to blow. He couldn’t answer that because he’d already answered his first question in his mind and it was far more disturbing to him than the second. Except that Dean apparently wanted him to blow up tonight to be comparing him to a Dad, even if he had good reason. Or thought he did.  
  
Sam ran a hand over his face and through his hair. How many times had he done it now? How many times had he not even realized he was jealous of Dean and the dates he planned out in advance? Oh he let Dean date whenever he wanted to, but whenever Dean made a point of wanting to do something nice, he’d accept some last minute gig and they’d have to run out the door as soon as they were packed up. Jesus. He was jealous. He thought he’d had this under control. Certain he had when Dean was only 5. When he was 11 he got a little jealous of the affection he showed so willingly to others, but that was simply because he remembered an 11 year old Dean from a 7 year old’s experience and Dean had only loved him then, to his knowledge anyway.   
  
He took a deep breath, trying not to think about it. 15? 16? At least 15 he realized. Dean had accused him of being a cock blocker more than a few times before they’d become lovers and now it seemed like he’d become that again without realizing it. Only to a much younger and completely unknowing Dean.   
  
“Keep you out of trouble man? I’m not up for that kind of work load.” He said with a small smile. “You’re right though. It can keep. Get ready and go. I’ll get us packed up while you’re out. We’ll head when you get back in.”  
  
Dean’s eyes widened as he stepped forward, putting a hand on the back of Sam’s neck. “Sammy…” he got on one knee in front of him, looking up at Sam as he rested his elbows on his knees. “If it’s important we can leave. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that…”  
  
He hesitated and Sam shook his head. “What Dean? Whatever it is you can say it to me man. Thought that was something you knew by now.”  
  
“Yeah.” Dean said with a small smile. “If you don’t want me going out all you have to do is say so. You don’t have to take a job just to keep me home. You know I like hanging out with you so…”  
  
“Somehow I doubt your girl of the night would be too happy about that. Seriously, just get ready Dean. I’ll have things ready. Just wake me up if I fall asleep and we’ll get a good start tonight.”  
  
Dean nodded, then left the room, a minute later the shower started upstairs.  
  
  
Sam looked up, then banged his head on the table as he brought it down, banged it a couple more times just for good measure. It wasn’t like Dean had anyone steady he hung out with except Sam. He’d tried to be supportive and all that, but Dean was as pragmatic about relationships now as he always had been, even without the same influence Dad had always had on him. They’d only be around a year and then he’d end up having to say good-bye anyway, so why bother?   
  
It made him feel like an ass, but at the same time it was more than his brother had before so Sam cut himself some slack. Dean was doing well in school, had a lot of friends everywhere they went, even if they weren’t girlfriends for any length of time, and he had a lot of interests besides cars and getting laid.   
  
OK, so the Impala was still his baby and he got upset anytime Sam tried to tinker with it because they both knew how badly that normally turned out. And yes, Dean on a hunt was a Dean on the prowl and he was just as charming with the girls at 16 here as he had been before. His success rate for getting laid was probably just as high as ever, only he didn’t go for the local girls.   
  
Maybe that was why he’d unconsciously been sabotaging these dates. Because he figured they meant more than the others. If Dean was making it a big deal, wasn’t that what it meant?   
  
Dean came down a few minutes later, wet hair standing in spikes, tight jeans and a tighter blue shirt that showed off his muscled chest and his eyes to great advantage. Sam opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.  
  
“I know.” Dean said with a grin. “I’m just that good. You can admit it Sammy. I won’t even tease you about it because, come on, how can you not notice?”   
  
Sam shook his head because even if Dean was worth drooling over he’d never been able to keep his mouth shut when it came to Dean and his ego. “What I notice is it looks like you’re wearing a toddler shirt. Is that thing like… 2 sizes too small or what? If you needed new clothes Dean you could have just told me.”  
  
“Shut up.” He said, a little defensive but still mostly teasing. “I just… it’s not… I…” He cleared his throat and grabbed his leather jacket, reaching for the keys. “It’s what guys wear to this place.”  
  
“What place?”  
  
“The 2550.” He was out the door before Sam could process that and the Impala was out of the driveway before he made a move for the door.   
  
Dean was going to a gay club. Now that was something to be worried about.  
  
  
He had their things packed and ready to go in less than 30 minutes. He was in for a long night. It wasn’t that Dean was out with a guy tonight that bothered Sam. Well, part of it was but just the parts where Dean felt a need to say it as he was leaving and in a way that Sam would have to know the place to understand. OK the whole jealousy issue was rearing it’s ugly head but it had no place there. Dean was his brother and yes, he loved his brother. The lust thing though was not happening at this age. The brother he’d slept with was 26 at the time, not 16, and he’d promised to give Dean a real chance at something this time. Living a life of incestuous relations was not what he’d wanted for him.  
  
Of course that sort of screwed himself in the process, but he was a big boy and could take care of things himself. He’d managed the first 22 years of his life without Dean, then another 16 without. It hurt like hell sometimes, but in the grand scope of things he had his brother and that’s what mattered. He had Dean and they hunted and yet he still had a normal life. It was good enough for him really.   
  
Or that’s what he told himself over and over again as he found his way to the club. He thought about going in but decided to stick to the outside, checking out the back alleyways to make sure his brother wasn’t being hurt out here.  
  
He knew he could get inside if he wanted to. He didn’t look his age and he was active enough that his body was well toned. In fact, he knew what sort of people were at this place because he’d been there himself. He didn’t do it often, but sometimes… it was too much. He’d come and find a guy that was the right build and the right musculature and the wrong eyes, because no matter how you tried there was only one pair of eyes that looked at him the way he wanted and they weren’t here in any form, and he’d allow himself a little bit of a release from the pressure of raising Dean and hunting and trying to keep Dad a trivial part of Dean’s life.   
  
Trying. It was harder as Dean got older. He had a cell and called John whenever he wanted to. Called him John like Sam had been for the last 10 years because John wouldn’t let him call him Dad and Sam wouldn’t let him call him Grandpa either. The lie was easy enough but John had hated Sam for telling it. Sam understood, but couldn’t make John believe anything anymore so it didn’t matter. They lived this little life that made no sense and Sam and Dean got by just fine.   
  
John stuck to the program most of the time too. He wanted to see Dean and knew the quickest way to stop seeing him was to piss Sam off. The first time he did it, he’d had to wait over a year to see Dean again before Sam believed he wouldn’t try to force the issue or send someone to take his kid. He thought John still might have tried the second route until Sam told him he’d run, he’d break Dean out of wherever and run with him until no one had ever heard the name Winchester. John knew he was serious and it had never been an issue again. Oh, his Dad was stubborn and sometimes they fought, like when Sam gave Dean the Impala for this birthday last year, but even if John kept his mouth shut they both knew he believed Sam was Dean’s father, not brother, so if he wanted to give his son a car he could.   
  
He was so completely lost in thoughts of his Dad that he jumped when there was a knock at the window.  
  
“Pervert. Checking out the guys in the back?” Dean said as he opened the passenger door and slid into the seat.   
  
“Thought you had a hot date. What are you doing in here?”  
  
“I’m ready to go.”  
  
“You’re date gone already?” Dean nodded. “How old did you tell him you were.”  
  
“18.” Dean said with a smirk. He looked younger than his 16 years but the smile and the knowledge in those eyes gave everyone pause.   
  
“And how old is he?”  
  
“20.”  
  
“Jesus Dean. 4 years older?”  
  
“What?”  
  
4 years older. Just like he used to do. Of course, he’d always known why those years made a difference to him. He wondered if Dean always picked the 4 year gap, then decided it was better not to ask.  
  
“Nothing. So where is this guy. Anyone I can see?”  
  
Dean looked at him for a second through the corner of his eyes, then pointed to a couple of guys talking at the entrance. “The tall one.” He said.  
  
Sam’s eyes nearly bugged out. The tall one looked to be pretty damn close to his own height. He had brown hair that curled on the ends and big hands. “Dean…”  
  
“Yeah?” And he could tell that Dean wanted him to ask. Jesus, was right. His little brother was picking up on people that looked like him and making a big deal about it at home. Why? And Sam couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this one coming. To make Sam jealous. He’d wanted Sam to come down here tonight and see this.  
  
“Never mind. You get what you needed? You ready to go home and head out?”  
  
Dean smirked and Sam almost laughed. Considering what was happening he was sure laughing was the wrong idea but he couldn’t help himself. Dean was still Dean and he wanted Sam’s attention so he was going to get it, come hell or high water.   
  
“Yeah, I’m ready to go big brother.”  
  
“Wanna take the Impala?”   
  
“Yeah. S’just over in the main lot. We can leave this one there.”   
  
Sam nodded and did as he was told, getting their stuff transferred from one car to the other. When he slid into the Impala he smiled, gripping the steering wheel with obvious joy. Dean didn’t say anything, but put his head on Sam’s lap to fall asleep before they even hit the main drag out of town.


	11. What You Need

  
  
  
The night breeze flowed from the ocean through the windows of the car as Sam sat back, relaxing after a long day. It had been pretty hectic lately. Dean had just finished his last year of high school and Sam had been taking more hunts on, letting Dean fend for himself a few days a month. He thought it was probably good to have the space from one another even if he did know a few of the parents of kids in Dean’s class weren’t very happy about it. Dean was outgoing and as always, hit it off well with the other kids. This year had been no exception and with Sam out of town Dean had taken it upon himself to throw a few parties. Sam had no concerns about Dean and knew he was responsible enough not to get into too much trouble. Some of the parents weren’t so lucky and they liked to blame Dean for their kids’ misbehavior.   
  
The school overlooked that sort of thing because Dean was a good student, tended to help out the kids that everyone else bullied, and was a natural leader. Sam didn’t say anything because if Dean wanted a few high school parties he wasn’t going to deny him of it. It was a better life than either of them had lived before and it made Dean happy. So long as he kept his grades up, Sam was pretty well inclined to let him do anything he wanted.   
  
“You staying in there all night?”   
  
He jumped slightly at the voice and cursed as he heard the laughter than drifted in. He shook his head as he looked at Dean, standing beside the Impala with a half smile on his face. “I was thinking about it. The Impala is better company.”  
  
He was pushing the door open even as he said it though. He stepped out into the sand and walked over to Dean, letting his eyes take in the sight of his brother. He’d always known Dean was too attractive for his own good. Standing on a deserted beach at midnight with the moonlight capturing his features, Sam knew that Dean was way too attractive for his good too. He wanted to reach out and brush his hands through Dean’s hair, wanted to pull him close and just hold him there. He smiled instead, knowing that there was nothing on Earth that could make him push that relationship here. He’d kept his hands to himself for the past 2 years, even when he knew there were times when Dean had been willing to let Sam blur the lines. He’d decided to give Dean as normal a life as he could and even if he hadn’t been able to keep him from hunting, he’d managed to give him a mostly regular home life that didn’t include getting groped by his brother.   
  
“So what’s with the beach tonight?” He asked.   
  
Dean leaned away from the car without answering. Sam wasn’t sure why Dean had wanted to come out tonight but nothing was going to stop his brother and Sam decided to go along with it to see what was happening. Dean was obviously nervous about something but he hadn’t opened his mouth yet so Sam just walked beside him, heading towards the surf.   
  
They walked a few minutes in silence before Dean found a place that was to his liking. They sat on the sand facing the water, shoulders brushing against one another as they relaxed.   
  
“Hey Sam.” Dean’s voice sounded small and hesitant. “Did… did Jess like the beach?” He asked.  
  
Sam smiled, nodding for a minute. “Yeah she did, especially at night.”  
  
“Do you… do you think she would have liked me?”  
  
Sam looked over concerned about the topic. They didn’t talk about Jess very often. It wasn’t that Sam didn’t want to but it confused Dean and Sam had never found a good way to explain away the dad/brother trouble. Dean knew that on paper Sam was his father but Sam had told him it was just paper, just a way for Sam to keep him when nothing else would have. It didn’t explain who Dean was, who his mother and father were if it wasn’t Sam and Jess, and if John wasn’t his father. It was all Sam could come up with though because there was no way to explain it really and he didn’t want Dean scared into thinking his life could be taken from him so easily. “Yeah Dean, Jess would have loved you. She did love you.” He thought about the woman he’d loved and left behind and the woman he’d lost who’d given him Dean; one woman with two different lives, but both just as complex and compelling in Sam’s life.   
  
“I know… look Sammy.” Dean stood up then, staring down at his brother. “I need to tell you something and I need for you not to get mad at me.”  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“I was talking to John.”  
  
“Jesus Dean”  
  
“No, listen. I’m 18 Sam and I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I just want to know the truth now. I’ve followed everywhere you’ve led for 18 years and I’ve never pushed it but I need to know. John... I asked him. After my birthday and the trip to the cabin, I asked him and he told me some things. I need to hear your side of the story Sammy.”  
  
Sam closed his eyes, wishing he’d never allowed Dean to drag him out here in the first place. “My side?” He sighed as he looked up at Dean. His lover. His brother. His son and father and every other definition that could be put on a relationship. “I’m guessing he told you who your mother was.”  
  
“Jess.”  
  
“And your father?”  
  
“You. It’s not like I didn’t know about that part Sam. You two have been fighting over that since I was a kid. Not to mention I have seen the birth certificate.”  
  
“Yeah. So what else did John tell you?”  
  
“Besides to call him grandpa?” He rolled his eyes as he said it but continued on before Sam could go into a tirade about his father. “He said you were crazy. He said that since I was a baby he’d been trying to figure out how to get me away from you without getting you locked away.”  
  
Sam snorted. “Do I seem crazy Dean? You know what’s out there. Is it really so odd to think that something happened that did this to us?”  
  
“Did what exactly? Because John wouldn’t tell me what you thought happened, only that it was insane.”  
  
Sam took a deep breath, then started talking. He told Dean about his life, about his big brother Dean, about John and how hard things had been for them. He talked about leaving his family for Stanford and how much it had hurt. Then he told Dean about the night he’d come for him and how it was the first time he’d felt right since he’d left. He told about the hunts they went on together and how Jess teased them about anything and everything. He left out their physical relationship, but he told him how close they were. Then he told him about waking and finding Dean as a baby, with a different Jess and John and a whole new life behind him.  
  
“It’s why John and I have never seen eye to eye. He kept… he expected me to accept that this was the life I had lived, but I never could.” He looked down at his hands, not sure what it was he was seeing in Dean’s eyes. “Sometimes I wish I could. It would be easier to accept John, to have my Dad like I’d always wanted him. To have had a child with Jess and be the father I always thought you deserved. But I couldn’t.”  
  
Dean was suddenly there then, his hands pulling Sam’s face up to look at him. “Of course you couldn’t.” There was something dangerous in Dean’s eyes as he leaned a little closer. “You could never leave me behind. Not there.” His face was a breath away, his lips brushing lightly over Sam’s. “Not here.”   
  
Sam’s eyes widened as he pushed back, away from the lips that he’d never stopped dreaming about. “Dean what do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Dean’s eyes were blank as he sat back on his heels in front of Sam. “You’re not mad.” He said softly. “You don’t even seem upset. It was the same way when you found out I was having sex with men who looked like you.” His eyes grew hard and he leaned forward into Sam’s space again, his lips stopping just above Sam’s ear. “You’d let me do this wouldn’t you, big brother?” He asked in a bare whisper. “You’d let me inside, let me fill you up wouldn’t you little brother?”   
  
Sam’s breath hitched at the words. He was trying to keep away from Dean, struggling to make himself back away from the temptation that his brother had always exuded. “Dean” His voice sounded broken even to himself.   
  
“I have these dreams Sammy.” He said. “Had them for a few years now and every time I tried to tell you I remembered how much you did for me, how much my brother did for me over the years.” He brought his lips back to Sam’s, this time pulling Sam into a harsh kiss.   
  
Sam pulled away, but Dean was on top of him and he used the position to keep Sam close. When he pulled back he gave a harsh bark of laughter before staring angrily into Sam’s eyes. “You want me to do it, don’t you Sammy?”  
  
Sam managed to get himself under control and he was suddenly angry. He flipped Dean off him and got to his feet. “What the hell Dean?”  
  
“You tell me Sam. For years I waited, thinking maybe I was reading it all wrong, but I wasn’t. I thought there was something wrong for me for wanting you like I did, my older brother who had taken care of me my whole life.” He let out another harsh laugh and it felt wrong to Sam. “I didn’t realize how wrong I was.”  
  
Dean took a few steps back and hung his head. “I’m leaving in the morning.”  
  
“Leaving?” There was panic in his voice and he couldn’t stop it, anymore than he could stop the heart clenching fear.   
  
“I got accepted at Stanford Sam.”  
  
Sam didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to cheer his brother on, to let him know it was OK to want more than just hunting and life on the road, but the dominant part of him knew he could never let Dean go off on his own. He could never keep his brother safe if he wasn’t there to look after him.  
  
“No Dean, what are you talking about? You’re going to leave me?”  
  
“Yeah, I am Sammy.” Sam opened his mouth to speak but Dean stopped him. “No Sam you listen. I… I waited for you to come to my room some night. I wanted you to come. Do you have any idea how bad this thing between us is? I… when John… I always knew what he thought, knew what the paperwork said, but I always thought there was something else going on that would explain it. John told me the truth though and now I know. You’re my…” his voice broke but he kept on going anyway. “my fucking father Sam. You’re my father and I wanted you to come into my room and when you didn’t I fucked anything that looked like you to take off the edge. I can’t… it was bad enough when I knew you were my brother, but this? Sam, you changed my diapers, kissed my scratches. How could you… “ his voice lowered as he went on. “How could you make me want this? Tell me that one. How could you make me want you Dad?”  
  
Sam’s eyes were filled with tears. In all the years he’d been at Dean’s side he’d never expected anything like this. He wanted to hate John for whatever part he’d played in this, but he knew it wasn’t just John. “Dean, I never…”  
  
“Never what? Never imagined what it would feel like? To be inside me? To have me inside you?’ He let out a bitter laugh. “I have, and I can’t stop. I thought… I thought I was wrong and it was just me, but then you let me…”  
  
And he understood the anger then. Dean had come, knowing Sam would push him away but needing to prove it to himself anyway. Only Sam hadn’t pushed him away at all and it made what John told him that much more believable, made the truth that much more confusing. Sam had never tried to explain it, just knew that Dean would trust him, but this thing between them went to far and Sam’s fear that Dean would think he was crazy, just like John did, made his secrecy that much more convincing for John’s argument.   
  
“Dean, I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want.”  
  
“No, but you’d do it if I asked.” Dean turned, his head held low. “I’m leaving Dad. I can’t stay like this, can’t be this. As much…” He looked over his shoulder. “As much as I might want this, I know it’s not right. I have to walk away now, while one of us still can.”  
  
“Don’t you leave me Dean.” The words were harsh out of Sam’s throat but he’d been thrown for the worst loop of his life and he had no footing.   
  
“I have to.”  
  
“You better make real sure about that Dean because if you walk out now, you don’t come back. I won’t be waiting for you.”  
  
He watched Dean stop walking and for a single moment he thought he’d stopped his brother. Dean’s spine straightened though and Sam wished he could take the words back, words from another man at another time that still haunted Sam at times. “I’m sorry. I love you Dad, I just can’t be what you need me to be.”  
  
Sam was dumbstruck in that moment and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting into the sand. The words could have been straight from his own head, something he’d tried to express to his own father but had never been able to. He’d walked out the door instead. Even in this, Dean was stronger than him.   
  
He watched Dean’s retreating back and didn’t know how to make it better. The ride back in the Impala was uncomfortable and neither tried to fill the silence. Sam didn’t know how to start. Part of him was gratified to know that Dean was this strong, that even though this thing between them was still as strong as ever, that he’d raised Dean to know it wasn’t right, to know that he should leave before it became something it shouldn’t. Yes, it left him alone and feeling miserable, but after all the things dean had sacrificed for him over the years, it was a price he was more than willing to pay.   
  
He didn’t know how to say that though. Dean was calling him Dad, which meant that he had decided that John’s view of things was the right one, that Sam was insane and none of their past life meant anything. Maybe if he’d talk to Dean earlier, if he’d ever confided in Dean about whatever had caused all this, he’d understand. But how could he when 18 years later he still didn’t know what had caused it?   
  
Dean was out of the car as soon as it stopped and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop him. What was there to say really? He didn’t believe in him the way his older brother had. He’d lost faith in Sam and there was no way to make that up to him, not tonight. Maybe in time. Maybe when Dean found someone for himself, when Sam proved he could be happy for Dean and whatever choices he’d make, then he’d understand that Sam was doing his best. Until then, Sam had to give what he could and trust that 18 years of love would make up for all of this.  
  
Dean went straight into the shower and Sam didn’t blame him. He didn’t say anything to Sam as he grabbed a fresh towel from the closet, but looked at him for a second before turning away. He came back, throwing a heavy envelope on the table before moving wordlessly through the house. When he heard the water turn on, Sam took a look at the envelope that was stamped with the Stanford logo on it.   
  
Opening it, he found the acceptance letter along with scholarship information. Dean could work part time and make enough to cover any other expenses. Sam wouldn’t let him. He’d find a way to send Dean the money so he could concentrate on school. Sam knew what it was like at Stanford and he didn’t want it to become too much for Dean, didn’t want his brother to fail because he was concentrating on financing school instead of studying for it.  
  
He sat lost in thought for a while, not sure what brought him out of it except a need to see his brother. He left the papers on the table as he walked to his brother’s room. He listened at the door, heard the music playing softly that meant that Dean was restless and not able to sleep yet.   
  
He knocked lightly and opened the door before Dean could say anything, afraid his brother would say not to come in and he’d have to ignore it. “Dean? I…” he took a deep breath as he looked down at Dean, lying back on the bed with his head pillowed in his arms. “I’m sorry about what I said. About not coming back. It was just the shock. I’m… I’m proud of you man.”  
  
Dean stared at him for a minute. “I know you didn’t.” He finally said, looking away from him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me go.”  
  
“I’d never try to stop you from something like that Dean.”  
  
“Yeah. Maybe…” he sighed then looked at Sam again. “maybe I was hoping you wouldn’t want me to go. Maybe as fucked up as all of this is, I still want to know that you’re with me.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “Dean, I’m always here. Whether you believe I’m your father or your brother, I’m still here for you either way.” He took a deep breath then took a seat at the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling that was scattered with glow in the dark stars by the last occupants. “It was time to move on anyway. Palo Alto is a good place to live. I have a lot of good memories there.”  
  
“You’d move there?”  
  
“If you want me to. I don’t want to be there if you want to be away from me Dean. I never wanted to push you away. I’ve done my best to take care of you, to protect you from everything…”  
  
Dean’s voice was sad when he asked, “Even you?”  
  
Sam let out a broken bark. “Especially me.” He shook his head, not sure what he was saying. “Jesus Dean. I love you and I did everything I could to let you have a normal life. I know that doesn’t include this...” he gestured between them “thing between us. Yeah, it’s there and I don’t deny it, no matter how creepy it makes me sound, but it was never anything I would have acted on. You deserve more from life than this. You deserve to be happy and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen for you.”  
  
He could tell that Dean was uncomfortable with all the talk, but Sam couldn’t help it. He needed Dean to understand and hopefully he would be able to at least make a little repair on the damage that’d been done.  
  
“I wish I could undo this Dean. I wish I could go back and make things right between us. Between you and me and even John. I just want you to be happy Dean.”  
  
Dean turned over then, obvious having enough of a heart to heart to take him beyond uncomfortable to unbearable. Sam reached out and patted his shoulder lightly before pulling the blankets over him, unable to stop the rush of concern and love that always accompanied a sleeping Dean.   
  
He was at the door before he heard the words, a bare whisper. “I know Sammy. I want you to be happy to.”  
  
He closed the door behind him, resting against the wall as he closed his eyes. He didn’t know how they’d do it, but he’d make it right. He felt a slight tingling at the back of his head and nausea hit. He opened his eyes, surprised that after everything he’d been through that something like this could affect him so strongly. It was Dean though and he’d always affected Sam in ways that didn’t make sense. He’d almost lost him though, almost lost him and there was still a chance he would screw it up in the future. He’d have to be understanding if Dean wanted to call him Dad or introduce him as such to his friends when he went off to school, but he could do that. He would do anything to make things right between himself and Dean. Even if it meant staying away. He just hoped that wasn’t it.   
  
The world seemed to tilt and go fuzzy and Sam sighed. He was too tired to deal with the emotional backlash anymore so he checked all the doors and windows, then made his way to bed, covering his head from the world and hoping the new day would bring something better.


	12. Here

His head was pounding and all Sam could think was if Dean didn’t turn the music down he was going to kill him.  He rolled over in bed and pulled the pillow over his head and closer to his ears but it didn’t help in the slightest.  He wondered how long it would be before Dean woke up to it because the boy could sleep through a tornado if he was in his own room.  It made for an interesting contrast when they were in motels where Dean woke up to every little thing. 

 

He took a deep breath as he heard the door open and felt the bed dip slightly.  “Sam, babe, you need to wake up.”  Soft lips brushed the back of his neck and he sat up, startled and terrified as he stared into Jessica’s too blue eyes.   A car horn blew outside and Sam stared at her, eyes wide and uncertain.

 

“You okay Sam?”  She asked softly.

 

He was back.  He was home.  With Jessica.  With-

 

“Sammy!”  The bellow from the living room was deeper than he’d grown used to, deeper and sexier than he remembered and he wanted nothing more than to throw himself out of the room and bury himself in his big brother.  If that’s what he was.

 

Jess looked behind her, started by the yell and when Dean came barreling down the hallway and stopped short of the bedroom she looked between them.  “You guys okay?”

 

Sam took a deep breath.  It was Dean, his Dean, scars and scrapes and older than him.  He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.  Except Jess was watching him like he was smoking something bad and he blinked for a minute before he could look at her.   “Yeah, yeah sorry Jess, I just… I had a weird dream.”  He was watching Dean closely because there was nothing normal about the way Dean had come running in.  Whatever Sam had gone through, had Dean been through it to?  Or was it something else? 

 

“Yeah, me too.”  Dean said, sagging against the doorframe, one hand rubbing hard against the stubble on his face.

 

She didn’t look convinced.  “Sam, are you sure?  I can cancel today you know, maybe head out tomorrow.  It’s not a big deal.”

 

He remembered then, remembered Jess was going out of town for a week to visit family and Sam had declined the invitation to spend more time with Dean.  “No, it’s okay.”  He said, reaching forward and giving her a quick kiss that felt intimately like betrayal.  “Go ahead.  I think I’m probably just going to go back to sleep.”

 

She smiled.  “I keep telling you two to stop watching those freaky shows all night long.”  She gave him one last look, then kissed him lightly.  “I’ll call you later tonight when I get in.  Behave, alright?”

 

“Yeah Jess.”

 

“Love you Sam.”

 

“Love you too.  Talk to you tonight.”

 

She walked to the door and stopped in front of Dean, stepping up slightly on tiptoe to kiss his forehead.  “Try not to break anything nice.”  She teased, and then she was down the hallway.

 

Neither spoke or moved as they heard her taking bags out to a car.  They heard laughing and Sam remembered their friend Becky was taking the time to go with Jess.  When the car finally pulled out all Sam could hear was the barking of the neighbor’s dogs and the blood rushing to his ears.

 

He felt the bed dip beside him and the spell was broken.  Dean was sitting on the bed and all Sam could think about was this was his Dean. 

 

“Sammy?”  Dean’s hand reached out and he gently touched Sam’s cheek with his fingertips.  “You okay man?”

 

He shook his head, lips in a tight line to keep from blurting anything out.  It came out anyway.  “No man, I really don’t think I am.”  He lay back in bed and didn’t breathe until he felt Dean join him.  Dean pushed and pulled and maneuvered Sam until his head was on Dean’s chest, arms wrapped tightly around him.  Sam let his hand run over Dean’s stomach and hip, getting comfort and support from the contact. 

 

“What happened to us Sam?”

 

And Sam knew that they’d both been through the same thing.  “I have no idea.  Do you remember it all Dean?”

 

He felt Dean’s nod.  “Jesus Sammy, what you did for me…” 

 

He could hear the disbelief and the anguish there.  It was something he’d always known about Dean but was never in a place to do anything about it.  Until now.  His brother’s need to put everyone else before himself wasn’t something Sam had ever given much thought to before.  He pushed up and leaned against one hand, looking up at Dean.  “I’d do anything for you, you know?  You always took care of me.  Do you think I’d do less for you?”

 

There was pain in those green eyes and Sam knew that as much as he wished he could ease Dean’s fears, it would be a long time before he’d ever get over Sam leaving him the first time. 

 

“No Sammy I just… fuck I wanted you and you just wouldn’t…”  He pulled Sam to him, lips crashing into his brutal and full of fear and desperation.  “It’s why I let you go Sam, why I didn’t come after you until Dad disappeared.  Wanted to let you have this without me in the way of it, without this thing between us but I’ve never been as strong as you.”

 

“You have no idea of who you are Dean.”  Sam said with a sigh as he let his lips brush across Dean’s cheek.  He didn’t care that he was in the bed he shared with Jess, didn’t care about anything other than the feel of Dean underneath him, against him.  “No idea how good you are, how strong.” 

 

Before Dean could answer, he pressed his mouth against Dean’s, licking his way in.  Dean moaned underneath him and he Sam smiled against his lips.  “God, I missed you Dean.”

 

“Yeah Sammy?”  Dean asked, his hands brushing up Sam’s side and then trailing back down his stomach, letting his fingers slide across the front of Sam’s boxers, dipping behind and just rubbing back and forth across the sensitive skin there. 

 

“Fuck Dean.”

 

“Isn’t that the plan?”

 

Sam let his head back, laughing at the maddening need Dean was creating.  “Jesus you’re still a smart ass.”

 

“Told you I always would be.” 

 

His eyes caught with Dean’s, both knowing the argument, the endearment didn’t belong in this world.  Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat and tried to come back from it, from that recognition but he couldn’t.  He started to pull away, but Dean pulled him back in, hand on the back of his neck, kissing him hard.  Before he could move away or even attempt to, Dean’s fingers slid further into his boxers and he was the one moaning into his brother’s mouth as his hand stroked the hard length of him.

 

“Yeah Sammy, come on.  Been way too long man, need this.” 

 

When Sam pulled away from Dean’s kiss it wasn’t to slow things down or stop them.  He stood up from the bed and slipped his boxers down, kicking them casually to the side.  He smiled down at Dean then, crawling up the bed until he was hovering over him.  He bent down and licked at one of his nipples, biting lightly before moving to the other.  Dean let out a throaty laugh and he knew what his brother was in the mood for then, had become accustom enough in the months they’d been lovers to know.  He licked and kissed and nipped his way down Dean’s side, stopping to pay attention to the skin just about his hipbone.

 

“Sammy!”  Dean cried out in a voice that was trying to be demanding but wore too much laughter. 

 

He smiled up at Dean, saw the smile across his brother’s face as he reached a hand down and touched Sam’s cheek.  He bit the fingers lightly and turned his attention back to the pale skin underneath him.  For 18 years he’d been starved for the sight of his Dean, of the older brother who had given everything for him.  He took his time leaving a trail of small bite marks across Dean’s inner thigh, then began to torture his brother with the same on the other leg.

 

“Jesus Sammy, you’re gonna kill me.”

 

“Good way to go right?”  Sam asked with a grin.

 

“Fucking best man.”

 

He wanted to tease longer but it’d been far too long for Sam and as much as he wanted to taste and mark every part of his brother, he needed more.  He nosed his way across Dean’s thigh, then licked the base of his cock, moving lower again to taste him, sucking one ball in his mouth before giving the other the same attention. 

 

He licked the base again, then moved up Dean’s cock, licking a circle around the head before lowering his mouth slowly.  He put one hand on Dean’s hip to keep him from bucking up hard and the continued to take as much of him into his mouth as he could.  He began sucking him down then, licking and stroking up and down with his lips, teasing with a hint of teeth. 

 

He was so overcome with the smell and taste of Dean around him that he didn’t notice his brother’s upper body moving until he felt something bounce on the bed beside him.  He sucked up the length of Dean, then looked up at his brother, eyes heavily lidded and desire dripping from his gaze.  “C’mon Sammy…”

 

And Sam was moving up the bed then, moving on top of Dean.  His hand caught what had been half thrown across the bed and he opened it felt the cool liquid coating his fingers.  He didn’t break his lips from Dean’s as he trailed his hand down Dean’s throbbing cock and down to the puckered entrance.  He slid a finger in and out, nice and easy for Dean, letting him remember this, adjust to this.

 

Dean practically growled into his mouth and Sam but his lip as he rested his forehead on Dean’s as the second finger slid inside him.  “Fuck Dean, not gonna take long if you keep making those noises.”

 

“Think you can shut me up that easy?”

 

Sam looking into the smiling eyes of his brother and smiled back.  “Hell yeah.”  He kissed Dean again, his tongue tasted his brother as another finger joined the others.  Dean might have moaned but Sam swallowed any sounds he was making.  Dean was thrusting his cock hard up against Sam’s, his ass back into his fingers and Sam was done.  He pulled back from Dean, removing his fingers and using the bottle to lube himself up quickly.  “Can’t wait anymore Dean.”  He said, positioning himself and barely waiting to catch his brother’s eye as he pushed in.

 

“Fuck Sammy, about time.” 

 

He couldn’t look away from Dean, the way he bit his lower lip as he adjusted to the feel of Sam inside him, the way his hips moved ever so slightly to accommodate him, the way his hands clenched in the sheets, white knuckled one minute and reached for his thigh the next trying to find something to hold onto. 

 

He slid all the way in and closed his eyes, just focusing on sensation and trying not to come just from that.  When he opened his eyes he leaned forward, kissing Dean deep and heavy, wanting to never leave this body again.  He felt Dean push against him, felt the shiver of anticipation at the small amount of sensation and found himself smiling against those lips again.

 

“Feeling good?”  Dean’s voice was smug but breathless all the same. 

 

“God, you have no idea.”  He pulled almost all the way out then and drove back in hard, feeling his brother’s gasp and startled laugh.  “You feeling good Dean?”  He asked as he thrust in again, knowing he’d found the right angle when Dean’s back arched up off the bed. 

 

“God..”

 

“Sam will do.”

 

“Fuck you Sammy.”

 

“Maybe later tonight.”  He said, kissing Dean into silence.  He was close though and he knew it wasn’t going to last much longer.  He reached a hand between them and found Dean’s cock, taking it in hand and stroking him in time with each thrust.  Dean’s hand came up over his, moving with it.

 

“Yeah Sammy, fuck yeah.”  He mumbled against Sam’s lips and there was nothing sexier than Dean’s voice when he was about to come.  “Make me come Sammy, come on man, want come all over you.”

 

“Do it Dean, just fucking do it.”

 

And then he was coming and Sam bit down on his brother’s lip to keep them both from screaming when he came right after that.

 

He was still breathing hard when Dean pushed lightly at his shoulder.  He pulled away gently, not wanting to hurt Dean as he slid out of his body.  He threw himself down on the bed beside Dean, laying on his stomach and turned away from him.  “Can’t move.”  He said with a slight laugh.

 

He felt Dean moving beside him, felt his brother’s leg come up behind his, his stomach and chest against Sam’s back as he peppered his back in small kisses.  “Good.  Like this view of you better anyway.”

 

Dean put an arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him tight, letting his forehead rest against the back of Sam’s shoulder.  Sam reached his arm back, finding Dean’s head and letting his fingers run through his hair for a minute.  “Don’t care how I get you, as long as I do.”

 

 

 

 

When he woke, Dean wasn’t there.  He got up and threw some clothes on before realizing he could hear the music in the kitchen and found his brother making pancakes.  He leaned against the doorway and smiled as he watched his brother, dressed only in a pair of too thin sweats padding around in the kitchen barefoot.  He looked at the clock and shook his head.  “I think it’s past breakfast time dude.”  He said, pointing. 

 

“It’s a good thing chef Winchester is here then, because he only cooks breakfast.”

 

“That would explain all the years I only ate Lucky Charms.”

 

“It was the cheapest cereal I could find.  No other way I could afford to feed you man.”

 

“Yeah well that’s why I’m the more awesome brother.  I always made you pancakes.”

 

Dean’s back went straight and Sam could tell from across the room, even with his back turned, that Dean was upset about something.  “Dean” Sam moved to his brother, pressed his chest against his brother’s back.

 

“Yeah Sammy.” He said with a sigh.  He leaned his head back, letting it rest against his brother.  It wasn’t something he did here, but there he had and even if it was unfamiliar in this house he wasn’t about to let it become forgotten.  “You did make me pancakes.”

 

“You figure out why yet?”  Sam asked as he let go of Dean and shifted around to lean against the counter beside him.  He shook his head and looked at Sam curiously.  “Every time I started a new school, you made me pancakes.  Every year, the last day of the school year, you made them for me too.  I always knew when something special was happening because you cooked pancakes for me first.”  He said, knocking his knee out to brush gently with Dean’s.  “I wanted to give you pancakes all the time.”

 

“Jesus dude, you’re turning into a girl.”  Dean’s smile was bright though and Sam walked away when he saw the liquid green eyes, knowing Dean hated when Sam saw how emotional he could get. 

 

“Speaking of turning,” Sam said as he took a seat at the breakfast bar while he watched Dean pull himself back together and start moving around the kitchen again.  “Think we need to figure out what happened.”

 

“Yeah, because somehow I don’t think a shared dream cuts it.  Something worse you think?” 

 

“But for what?  I mean, other than a very frustrating sex life for 18 years, nothing bad really happened.”

 

“No idea.”  Dean said, his mind working something through as he poured the batter into the skillet.  He let Dean think, knowing there was a lot in his brother’s memory if he’d give him time to jog it properly.  Instead of rushing him, he got plates and silverware out, setting them on the bar.  

 

Blueberry pancakes we’re Sam’s favorite and he was more than willing to let Dean keep thinking while he tucked into the more than healthy stack of pancakes on his plate.  Dean took a bite drenched in syrup.  He licked the fork lightly, then sighed.  “Like your banana ones better.”

 

Sam smiled around his mouthful and nearly chocked himself trying to swallow it down.  Dean laughed and Sam just kept smiling.  “Nah, I missed the blueberry.  My favorite.”

 

“I know.  Why didn’t you ever make blueberry though?”

 

“Used to.  But you liked banana better so I made those.”

 

He could see the surprise on Dean’s face and he looked away before he could say anything stupid, like how he’d never eat another blueberry in his life if it meant he could keep Dean happy.

 

“About…”  Dean stopped, trying to figure something out and he knew that Dean was coming out with whatever he’d been thinking about while he was making the food.  “I don’t think I ever saw you date anyone Sam.”

 

It wasn’t what Sam expected.  “Oh.  Um... Jess.”

 

“That was like 17 years ago Sam.”

 

“Yeah Dean, I know how long it was.  Look, don’t make me out to be something I’m not.  There was sex in between.  I just… it didn’t feel right.  I knew I’d get back here sometime.”

 

“How did you know Sam?”

 

He shrugged.  “I don’t know man.  I just… I had to.  You know?”

 

Dean looked at him for a minute, then gave a sad smile.  “Yeah, I know.”

 

They ate in silence a few minutes more before Dean broke it again.  “Think I know who we can call to get a handle on this thing.  Bobby Singer.”

 

“Bobby?  It’s been a long time since I saw Bobby.  Thought you said he and Dad weren’t getting along anymore.’

 

“Yeah, but Bobby and I still get along so we should be good.  At least he can’t take a shot at me over the phone.”

 

 

 

Sam cleaned up the kitchen as Dean made the call.  He thought Dean wanted some privacy when talking about what had happened to him and as much as he wanted to talk to Dean about it, find out what had been going on in the teenage brain of Dean Winchester, he knew there was something else he had to do more.

 

He looked across the apartment, at the life he and Jess shared.  Crossing through he passed into the bedroom and sat down.  The bed he’d made love to his brother on just this morning.  The bed he’d fallen asleep next to Jess on last night.  The same bed he’d snatched Dean up from, giggling and kicking as Jessica’s blood began to drip from the ceiling.  He laid back, staring at it, thought turning over and over in his head about what he had to do now.

 

Dean found him there when he got off the phone with Bobby.  “Hey, you okay?”

 

“I can’t do this.”

 

“Sam?”  There was concern in Dean’s voice but it was a small victory to know that Dean didn’t think he was talking about them.

 

“It happened here Dean.”  He said, pointing up at the ceiling.  “I came home from a hunt.”  He’d never told the whole story to Dean before, not the little brother.  “Found you lying on the bed.” He smiled slightly.  “You were smiling at me and I grabbed you, you were squealing because I was kissing you and tickling you.  You were 6 months old that night.”

 

“Jesus Sammy.”  He felt Dean sit heavily beside him on the bed, but he was still staring up at the ceiling. 

 

“We were just playing, and then something dripped on my hand.  Looked up and there she was, Jess splayed out over the ceiling with blood dripping.”

 

“Sammy, you couldn’t stop it.”

 

“No, I couldn’t Dean, no more than Dad could have.” He looked over at Dean then, away from the ceiling and the memories.  “But I can stop it.  I can stop it here."


	13. Gonna Like It Here

 

 

 

“You boys sure about that Dean?”  Dean rolled his eyes over the phone. 

 

“Yeah Bobby.  It didn’t take long after I talked to you. Started looking into the local scene and realized something was causing trouble around town.  Should have known, a place like Stanford.  Really, it’s a hay day for a trickster.”

 

“That makes sense, but these things are hard to kill Dean.  You sure you got it?”

 

“Dead as a demi god with an ash stake through the heart can get.”

 

Sam took a deep breath as he looked over the top of the Impala.  They’d been back two weeks and their first act had been to hunt down the Trickster that had brought this on them.  They didn’t know what it was about them that caused the Trickster to take them on, but whatever it was, it was no longer an issue.  Not that it’d been easy, but it was done now and Sam was ready to move on with his life. 

 

He looked at Dean and realized he was going to be on the phone for a while longer.  He pulled out his own and made a call, not letting himself hang up when the voice message began.  He had some things to get off his chest and he certainly didn’t want his brother to hear.  The beep sounded and he almost hung up, but forced himself to go on.

 

“Dad, hey it’s Sam.  Look, I know we haven’t talked in a while.  I just… Dean’s with me.  At Stanford.  He’s still hunting and stuff you know but, sort of a home base, you know?  Anyway, I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry for all the shit I always gave you.  I know you did the best you could for Dean and me.  You kept us safe and I don’t think I appreciated that until recently.  So.  Just.  Thanks Dad.  If you wanna talk sometime, or maybe stop by…. I’m moving into a new place right now but I’ll call back with the address so you can maybe visit sometimes.  It’d be good to see you again.”  He hung up then before he could make a bigger fool of himself.

 

“Sam?”  Sam looked up to see Dean staring at him.

 

“Don’t say anything Dean.”  Sam said, trying to cut off any gloating that might be forthcoming for the years of arguments about whether their father was doing what was best.

 

Dean looked at him for a second and shook his head.  “You did your best too Sam.”

 

“Still taught you to hunt.”

 

“Got me into Stanford too though.”

 

Sam smiled, then shook his head, deciding to take the Dean approach to things.  “Yeah.  I can’t believe you were going to leave me to go to school just because I don’t put out every time you take me to a sleazy beach?”

 

Dean smiled, but it wasn’t 100% genuine and he knew it.  They teased about it, pushed back and forth because they needed to, needed to tease until it was nothing more than a joke and not some sort of gulf that was too wide to cross.  “It was not sleazy, it was romantic.  And it was 2 years of not putting out that got me to leave your ass, not one night.”

 

He dropped his head so that Dean wouldn’t be able to see that the smile didn’t reach his eyes either.  “Whatever jerk.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

“Come on.  Let’s get inside.”

 

Dean looked down and back up at Sam.  “You sure about this man?  I mean, Jess…” 

 

Sam looked at Dean, not letting himself look away.  “I don’t want her to get hurt Dean, and I can’t tell her about what we do.  She wouldn’t believe in the hunting and… look I learned a lesson a long time ago and I’ve never forgotten it.  If I had a choice, it they made me choose which of you I got to keep and which had to die… I’d keep you Dean.  I don’t know what that says about me, but it says that I don’t love her enough to keep her.  So don’t think this is just because of the fire Dean.”  He didn’t know if he was reassuring his brother or not, but he felt the need to say it.  They hadn’t really talked about it except for Sam to tell him they needed to look for a place of their own.  “This is about you and me and being where I’m supposed to be.”

 

Dean looked like he was about to say something then shook his head.  “Yeah Sammy, okay.  Let’s do this.”

 

 

 

The trickster watched from the window of the duplex as the boys talked over the roof of the car.  He wasn’t sure if they’d finally get it right this time, but maybe his point had been made.  He hoped so.  After watching them turn demon and angel on one another, watching them martyr themselves time after time again, he’d hoped that Sam and Dean would finally manage to make things right.  This life had already taken a more interesting turn that the last but he’d felt a brief interlude was needed to make them finally understand what it was they’d been missing. 

 

Sure, he liked to take down the big and mighty, but Dean Winchester had style and heart and he had a soft spot for the boys.  Well, not enough to make it too easy, but he was willing to give them a chance when they needed it. 

 

They started towards the duplex and he fell into the guise of the landlady, letting them in as they looked around the place.  There were worlds of communication shared between their looks while they remained mostly silent, Sam asking a few questions while Dean checked out the layout, the defensibility of their location, and the exit strategies.  The ‘landlady’ gave the ‘friends’, because there was no mention of brothers, the lease and a few minutes.  Expecting to come back and hear questions, the boys had the lease signed and asked when they could move in.  Their deposit was in crinkled bills that smelled suspiciously like smoke and liquor but the landlady took it, smiled, and told them to move in anytime. 

 

“I’m just here to help.  Call me anytime you need me boys.”

 

 

 

 Dean watched the landlady go and shook his head.  “Crazy lady Sam.    She was checking you out the entire time.”

 

Sam laughed.  “Checking you out you mean.”

 

“Awe Sammy, jealous of the landlady?  You’re safe, unless she makes a mean pie.  Because you know I love me some pie.”

 

“Dean, I’m warning you…”

 

And with those words Dean was running out the door and across the grass of the duplex’s front yard.  Sam went running with a surprised yell and managed to catch up with his longer stride.  He threw himself into Dean and tackled him on the front yard. 

 

“Dean…”

 

Dean’s smile was heated as Sam lay sprawled on top of him, big hands holding his own into the grass, his body trapping Dean’s beneath it.  “Come on Sammy, there ain’t no pie on this world as tempting as you.”  He said, his voice slow and husky as he flexed his hips slightly, letting his body rock up into Sam’s. 

 

“Jesus, Dean.  Not right here on the lawn.”  He said with a breathless laugh.

 

Dean bucked up, knocking Sam from him and easily gaining his feet.  He held a hand down for Sam.  “Let’s get our bags inside.”

 

Sam wasn’t sure where the quick turn around in Dean’s attitude was, but he got up and walked over to the Impala, grabbing his bags.  They didn’t have much between them so they took it all up in one trip.  Sam set his stuff on the couch that had come with the furnished place.  He was already hungry and he wanted to actually cook their first night in the new place.  “Guess I should run to the store, get stocked up.”

 

He looked at this brother and his breath stopped short.  “What?”  Sam asked him.

 

Dean took a few steps and had Sam backed against the wall.  “You said not on the lawn Sammy.  We are definitely.”  He had his hands braced on the wall on either side of Sam’s face and leaned forward as he spoke.  “not” He let his lips hover over the skin of Sam’s neck, breath warm on his skin.  “on the lawn” he let his lips touch skin, kissing and licking at Sam’s collarbone and working his way up his neck.  “anymore.”

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yeah Sammy?”

 

“Think I’m gonna like it here.”

 

Dean laughed, looking up at Sam’s eyes, but his words died on his lips as Sam moved forward, arms around his shoulders as he walked him back to the bedroom.  His lips took Dean’s words and it was a long time before either spoke again.  When Dean had enough energy, his hand traced patterns over Sam’s back and he leaned forward, licking the words into Sam’s skin.  “Gonna like it here to.”   


End file.
